


Jeremiah - Echoes and Shadows

by Shadow_Chaser



Series: Jeremiah Season 3 - Moments of Transition [1]
Category: Jeremiah (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e14-15 Interregnum Parts 1-2, Gen, Jeremiah thinks he needs to do everything, Markus is very stubborn, Markus thinks he needs to do everything, Season 2 Continuation, h/c, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-12
Updated: 2009-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 42,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Chaser/pseuds/Shadow_Chaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Army of Daniel has been stopped and a cease fire called. Markus negotiates with the mysterious Founder for peace, but renegade forces are determined to sabotage the negotiations and deal with him, either dead or alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1 - Kidnapped

Jeremiah: Echoes and Shadows

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Disclaimer:**

_Jeremiah_ and its characters are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Sam Egan, Luke Perry, MGM/UA, and Showtime. This story is for amusement only and I didn’t get any money for it. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 **Timeframe:** Immediately after “ _Interregnum – Part 2_ ”

 

**Story:**

_Part 1 – Kidnapped_

 

            The quiet stillness of the misty cool fall air was broken by the occasional chirping of a robin, hunting for worms.  Rows of green military tents lined the valley and open fields as most of the soldiers housed in there were still asleep.  Beyond them were the black-grey tents of the Army of Daniel, having set  up camp in the valley of Four Roads where an epic battle was supposed to take place at least twenty-four hours ago.

            Twenty-four hours ago the cusp of battle had been halted with the knowledge that spread like wildfire through the Army of Daniel.  Daniel may not have existed...and it had completely demoralized and confused the troops to the point of wondering what they were truly fighting for.  For one person, he could understand how the people thought, to have a belief in that was suddenly ripped away.  It either left people in complete denial or it left them completely disillusioned with the world.  On the rare occasion, it left people with a renewed sense of purpose, but what that purpose was, was determined by each man, woman, and child.

            Jeremiah knew that all too well, having believed in the good his father was doing, in the faith of finding Valhalla Sector, only to find his dreams and illusions shattered when he had been captured.  The promise to protect his younger brother Michael, he had failed to keep and his attempt at redemption only to see almost everything he cared about ripped violently away from him.  But he knew that he had never wavered in his beliefs.  He had raged, he had grieved, he had done everything to try to make his own life and those around him in hell, but yet, he had felt his sense of purpose and his morals never waver.

            Only time would tell whether the men and women of the Army of Daniel would go one way or the other.

            He sipped on a piping hot mug of coffee, wishing that the caffeinated beverage would at least wake him up, but lately, there seemed to be no effect.  Not since...  He ruthlessly quashed any thought of Libby's death from his mind.  It still hurt too much to think of her, even though he got his revenge by killing Sims.  Even being next to Mister Smith still opened the gaping wound in his heart, but it wasn't as bad as thinking of her.  Everything he did reminded him of her, from the coffee in his hands to just staring out into the black-grey tents of the Army of Daniel.

            In the twenty-four hours since the Army of Daniel had called for a cease fire, there had been little headway and progress in negotiations.  It was partially because Sims' lieutenant, John wanted to wait to talk to Markus who would be arriving in a few hours.  Jeremiah knew that after having his faith in Daniel shattered and told it was a lie by the Founder who accompanied the army here; John wanted to see a tangible leader.

            But he wasn't stupid to know that there may be some dissent within the ranks and thus made sure his men were placed in strategic areas around the Army.  Markus himself was arriving with a diverted convoy, three groups of the same marked vehicles, a tactic they had used when they were smuggling Dr. Frederick Monash out of the borderlands between the Western Alliance and Daniel's territory.

            Jeremiah knew that even if he had tried to dissuade Markus from coming out to negotiate, he knew that this cease fire was so important that the main players had to meet face to face.  Kurdy had been talking about an 'interregnum' and even Mister Smith had murmured that God was holding his breath, the scales of peace that could go one way or the other.

            Kurdy also knew the significance and importance of the meeting and had sent scouts into the mountains during the night to make sure no enterprising sniper from the Army of Daniel would be able to take potshots at Markus or anyone else coming from Thunder Mountain.  The scouts were supposed to report in to him, Kurdy, and Gina every hour with status updates and if no scout reported in at the appointed time, then they were to scrap the whole operation and pull the army back to Millhaven.

            When they had talked the plan over with Markus and Erin, they hadn't expected Lee Chen to chime in on the plan and were quite surprised to hear the man reinstated as the Head of Security for ThunderMountain.  They had also heard of the group of soldiers that had infiltrated the Mountain to sabotage and kill everyone within when the appointed time came, but luckily had been thwarted by Lee himself.

            “You look like you swallowed a lemon, what, coffee too strong for you?” the sharply sarcastic, yet bubbly voice of Gina, his liaison and aide for the Western Alliance military, startled him out of his thoughts.

            “'Nah,” Jeremiah took another sip of the coffee, “just thinking...”  He gestured with his mug to the black-grey tents in the valley, “I don't trust these guys...”

            “I don't either and it is as far as I can throw them, which is not too far,” she amended with a crooked grin, “but hey, if they want  to talk, let them.  They do anything funny, we'll be all over them.”

            “Scouts?”

            “Everything's normal, sir,” Gina shrugged, “it really looks like some of them are in disbelief, but they're willing to listen.”

            “It's the how long part that worries me,” Jeremiah grimaced inwardly.  A shattered faith was usually not a good sign.  People listened, but after a while, they closed their ears to everything that was said.  He had no illusions that some people in the Army of Daniel were fanatical about what the man was saying, not Sims-like fanatical, but more like puritanical fanatical.

            They stood in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of the rest of camp waking up slowly filling  the air.  He glanced behind him, “Where's Kurdy and Smith?”

            “Kurdy said he was going with a small team to make sure the convoys aren't ambushed.  Smith says he was going somewhere...I dunno where...”

            Jeremiah knew that it was best to leave Smith alone whenever he was going somewhere; the man knew how to call for help if he needed it.  Plus he was in no mood to be near Smith for the moment...he still hadn't forgiven him for killing Libby.  “All right, let me know the second Markus arrives,” he turned and started to head off to the truck to the short drive to Millhaven.

            “Where are you going?” Gina called after him.

            “To clean up my house!”

                                                            *                      *                      *

            Markus Alexander disliked sitting in the back of a truck, especially if all of the drapes were hanging down and there was little to no light.  He didn't hate it, knowing that sometimes the back was the safest place in an ambush situation, but he at least wanted to see the sunlight.  He had gotten into the truck just a couple of hours ago, right when the early rays of dawn were peeking from the edges of the mountains, and thus didn't have a chance to greet the chilly rays of the fall sunlight.

            It also didn't help that in the dark, he felt more vulnerable, but he would never voice that worry to anyone.  He let out a soft sigh and raked his hand through his hair.  Yesterday they had almost been ambushed had it not been for Lee's quick thinking and actions.  Yesterday he learned that Erin, the person he most trusted on the base after Meaghan, had been holding a torch for him for fifteen long years.  Yesterday, he learned that the peace he had sought was tangible and waiting for him.  Yesterday...he knew that everything had changed in some shape or form, all because of one truth: Daniel did not exist.

            Erin had wanted to come with him, but Markus told her that she was needed at the Mountain just in case things went south.  It was partially because he still did not fully trust Lee, and partially because he needed some time to be away from her after her confession.  He had to admit, their dinner...date as it was, was quite nice and romantic, even the dance was pleasant, but he needed some time away to sort out his feelings for her.  He didn't know if he loved her, but he knew that he trusted her and depended on her as his second-in-command.  When Lee had interrupted their almost-kiss at the end of the dance, a part of him had felt relieved.

            He didn't know why, but had caught the hurt look on Erin's face as they pulled apart.  He just didn't know how to handle the situation...and definitely knew that he still felt something for Meaghan, even though she had been gone for over six months now.  When he had confessed to Smith, Jeremiah, and Kurdy about letting go of Meaghan, he had thought that was the end of that.  Truth be told...Erin's confession had reignited the feelings he had longed to bury.

            Markus picked at the corner of the flap to the front of the truck and peered out.  He recognized the surrounding woods as to be near Millhaven-Four Roads area and knew that they were going to arrive soon.  He let the flap drop and reached down to his right leg where a berretta sat snug in its holster.  Tapping it lightly to make sure it was still attached and the safety was on, he allowed himself a brief grim smile.  He normally didn't like to wield any weapons, but even he wasn't as naïve or stupid as some had thought him to be when it came to the Outside world.

            It was still an army they were dealing with, no matter what it looked like from the other side.  For all he knew, this could be a trap to lure him and the others of the command staff from ThunderMountain so they could destroy the base or even capture them.  That was also one of the reasons why he left both Erin and Lee back at the base.  He knew he was the main target that the Army of Daniel wanted to go after, him and Jeremiah, but even if they were captured, imprisoned or even killed, the Western Alliance would still continue.

            It was as simple as Theo had said months ago.  They were following an ideal, not the man behind the ideal.  However, that wasn't the case for the Army of Daniel or its followers.  This was the result when a lie spread like wildfire about one central person within the nation.  It was as simple as Carl had said when he escaped from the City, the place formerly known as Boston.

            Suddenly he felt the truck slow to a stop and the slamming of doors before the back of the truck's canvas was unzipped, letting in the rays of cloudy sunlight.  Markus squinted for a second, letting his eyes adjust before he nodded a greeting to his driver and saw the other two trucks within the small convoy pulling up behind them.  Good, none of them were harmed, which meant at least they didn't get ambushed by any of Daniel's men.

            Markus got out of the truck and was immediately greeted by Gina, one of Kurdy's first recruits posted to Millhaven and thus was in charge of stationing the rest of the recruits that came from ThunderMountain.

            “Good to see you Markus, Kurdy is patrolling the area, making sure the other convoys come in without being attacked and Jeremiah is holed up in his house, cleaning,” her bubbly, yet slightly sarcastic remarks almost made a hint of a smile appear on his face as he nodded.

            “Status on John and the other leaders of the Army of Daniel?”

            “Haven't called over yet, but they could be still waking up,” she followed behind him as he made his way to Jeremiah's house and climbed up the stairs.

            “All right, let me know as soon as you get word that they're ready to begin negotiations.  If you can, get Kurdy on the radio and tell him that after he sees the convoys into town take his team and head to where Sims was last seen.  And where is Mister Smith?”

            “I don't know, sir, but he did say he was going somewhere, probably not to kill anyone this time,” Gina shrugged.

            Markus didn't reply as he had heard the details from Kurdy when they had chatted over the radio last night.  Apparently guilt had overcome Smith and he had figured to rectify the situation by attempting to head out on his own and assassinate Sims.  No one knew where the man had gone until he had shown up a bit beaten, but otherwise, looking hale and healthy.  If Smith said he needed to go somewhere, he had long learned to let the man do whatever he wanted.  Smith was an oddball, but somehow a somewhat trustworthy oddball.

            “Sir, should I send a patrol out to look for him?” Gina spoke up and he shook his head.

            “No...we'll let him be for now,” he pursed his lips for a second before nodding mostly to himself as he heard Gina jogging down the stairs to relay his orders.  Glancing at the door, he rapped it loudly.

            “Hold on, hold on,” came the muffled reply from Jeremiah somewhere in the house before a few seconds later the clicks of locks unlocking was heard and the door was thrown open with a slightly irritated Jeremiah staring at him.

            Markus tried and failed to keep the crooked smile off of his face as he saw that the man was covered in at least patches of dust balls and was wearing a bandana over his mouth.

            “Yeah, keep laughing,” Jeremiah muttered as he pulled the bandana off and stuffed it in his pocket.  “You're here early.”

            “Jumping the gun, in case...you know,” Markus shrugged, “uh...can I come in?”

            “Oh yeah, sure, sorry,” Jeremiah moved to the side to let him in before closing the door behind him.

            Markus picked his way through the upturned furniture and debris on the floor to the dining room where thankfully, nothing looked like it had been thrown around and sat down in one of the chairs.  He accepted the mug of tea from Jeremiah and took a sip of it, feeling the light caffeine wake him up a bit from his long ride.

            “You know I still think you should have stayed in the Mountain, I mean after we secured the area and got the Army to back off a bit more,” the lanky man looked a bit annoyed.

            “If we don't move quickly then we may lose our chance to negotiate with one of the Founders.  Plus at this point, the Army of Daniel is confused and less liable to rally around and shoot us all,” he replied.

            “Or more liable to shoot you since you just basically told them that their leader is nothing but a lying son of a bitch and doesn't exist.”

            “No, that was you,” Markus stared at him with a pointed look.

            “Hmm...yeah, I guess you're right,” Jeremiah had a somewhat self-satisfied look on his face, “but you started it.”

            “Did John and the Founder agree to our conditions?” Markus drew the conversation back to a more serious tone and took another sip of the hot tea.

            “Yeah, took a little convincing, but I told them that we've set up snipers all around the valley area and said that we have RPGs ready to fire on them if they make the slightest twitch we don't like,” Jeremiah looked unfazed, “I had Gina take a small team up while we were talking about this and snipe an area near them to prove my point.”

            Markus resisted the urge to shake his head in exasperation as he felt his blood pressure rise just a hair.  There were times he knew Jeremiah was brilliant and yet, times like these, he was so...foolhardy.  “Its stunts like this that can start a war,” he muttered mostly to himself.

            “You don't like it, then you should have stayed in the Mountain and waited until things cooled down,” the other man shot back.

            Markus forced himself to keep his cool, knowing that whenever he talked to Jeremiah, it was always a battle of words and he needed his wits about him for the upcoming negotiations.  “I need you to do something while I'm talking to John and the Founder.”

            “Wait, I should be there with you when you talk to them.  I mean if they did set it up as an ambush-”

“Gina and her team will be sufficient enough,” he interrupted him, “I need you to sneak into the main tent where Sims, John, and the Founder had been staying in.”

“There’ll be guards,” Jeremiah muttered, “and I still think the Founder is staying in there.”

“Which is why I need you in there,” Markus could not stress the importance of the covert mission he wanted Jeremiah to undertake.  He knew that by getting rid of Sims, it was one less obstacle that they had to worry about, but like the mythology of the hydra, there was the potential of having more than one Sims-like character ready and willing to take over Army of Daniel at a moment’s notice.  He wanted to be sure that they had an advantage in case things went south with his negotiations.

“What do you want me to look for?” Jeremiah finally realized his tone and looked at him, eyes dark.

“Maps, a journal, anything that could give us an advantage in case there are more of Daniel’s Armies around the area that we don’t know about.  The convoy may not have been ambushed, but I have a feeling that Sims may have sent out a wing of his army to storm ThunderMountain,” Markus would not reveal that the information had come from Lee who had questioned one of the infiltrators.  It was also one of the primary reasons why he had left in such shadows and had told Erin and Lee to lock up behind him.

“Why the secrecy?  I thought we were here to negotiate-“

“We are,” Markus cut him off, “but you know as well as I do that a hydra’s body with its head cut off isn’t going to grow a new one so fast.”

“Oh no, not this hydra bullshit…you sound just like Kurdy,” Jeremiah groaned before draining his mug of coffee.

Markus had to smile crookedly at the statement before taking another sip from his mug.  “Can you do it?”

“Yeah…I’ll think of something,” Jeremiah stopped tilting his seat back and it lurched forward with a quiet thump, “I still think you should bring more people instead of just having Gina and her team cover you.  I mean, what if you get shot?”

He grimaced at the phantom echo of pain from the chest wound he had received in Danbury almost a year ago and shook his head.  “I’m only a man, Jeremiah.  It’s like Theo said, the Western Alliance follows an ideal, not the man behind the ideal.  If I…die…” he trailed off for a second, knowing how close he had come to death so many times since he had met Jeremiah and Kurdy but resolved to push forward.  He knew that the risks he was taking would eventually get him killed.  “If I die,” he gave the lanky man a hard stare, “then you and the others can continue without me.  The Western Alliance can forge peace in this world even if I’m not there.  You, Erin, Kurdy, hell even Lee, you guys know what’s at stake and if one man falls to save the lives of others, then that’s fine.”

“You’re a fucking fatalist, you know that?”  Jeremiah half sneered at him and Markus shrugged.

“No, just a realist,” he glibly replied before downing the rest of his mug and handed it back to his friend, “thanks for the tea.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Jeremiah still sounded sullen, but instead got up and put it in the kitchen sink.  Markus too got up and stretched, feeling a bit more awake than he had before and headed towards the door, joined by his friend and when he opened it, Gina was waiting for him outside along with three other volunteer soldiers who grinned their good mornings at him.

“Ready?” Gina still sounded perky but Markus caught an undertone of excitement and worry in her voice and he nodded before glancing at Jeremiah.

“Be seeing you,” he mock saluted him with two fingers before heading down the steps, Gina and the three others flanking him as people in the road made room for him to pass.  He let out a quick breath and steeled himself for what was to come…he knew he would need his wits about him when he faced John, the Founder, and the rest of the Army of Daniel.

                                    *                      *                      *

Jeremiah immediately threw down the bandana cloth he had stuffed in his pocket and grabbed his jacket, gun, and combat knife before placing the two weapons in their respective holsters, well, his combat knife in the side of his boot.  Seeing the urgency in Markus’ face when he gave him his mission he knew that he may have all the time in the world to find the necessary information in the tent or he may only have just a few minutes if things went south.

He hurried out of the half-cleaned house and to his truck.  Grabbing the radio in the truck he tuned it to Kurdy’s frequency, “Kurdy, you there?”

There was a slight pause before Kurdy’s voice came back with a slight fizzle and pop, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“You got men stationed near Sims’ tent?” he asked.  He had half of a plan forming, but if Kurdy did have men from the convoys up near the area then it would be advantageous for him.

“Yeah, Charlie-Two-Two-Niner.  Ethan is leading them.  Rest of the convoys are returning either back to the Mountain or to Millhaven right now.  Do you need one of them?”

“No, just keep an eye out.  Markus wants me to pick up a few things,” he knew better than to say more on such an open channel and switched frequencies to what his good friend had given him.  Meanwhile, his other hand, still injured from gripping Sims’ combat knife blade first, started up the truck and he sped off in a flurry of wet mud, headed up towards where Sims’ tent was.  “Ethan, you there?”

“Jeremiah?  That you boss?” he suppressed a smile at Ethan’s youthful voice over the channel.  The young man, at least five years younger than he was, was one of the best recruits besides Gina to come out of Kurdy’s training regimen.  He had a natural disposition for leadership of a small cohesive team that even Markus was considering using them as minor Special Forces to kill Sims or any of the other Army of Daniel leaders if Jeremiah hadn’t done the job.

He understood the need and had met Ethan a couple of times even before he had signed up to join the Western Alliance Army, since the young man was a resident of Millhaven.  He was glad that Kurdy had the foresight to send Ethan’s convoy up to the area.

“Yeah, what’s your position?”

“Just a few kilometers from Sims’ tent.  We’ve noticed a few guards in the area, but so far we’ve been on semi-friendly terms with each other.  I think they know we’re there to make sure they don’t do any funny business and they’re there to make sure we don’t do any funny business,” Ethan replied quietly, his voice popping and fizzing in the distortion of the radio.

“All right, just stay in the area,” the idea he had forming in his head was instantly killed with Ethan’s words and he knew he would have to think of another one quickly.  He wouldn’t risk Ethan or anyone else into deliberately provoking a fight near Sims’ tent which would in turn potentially endanger Markus’ efforts, but he needed to get in.

“Sure thing boss,” Ethan replied before he put the receiver back on its holster.

As he drove through the back roads towards Sims’ tent, he gritted his teeth in frustration and nearly pounded his wounded hand into the steering wheel before stopping himself from doing such a stupid thing.  “Shit,” he muttered darkly.  “Where’s a fucking plan when you need one, huh?”

As someone was listening to him, he saw a figure in the distance, trudging along the road with what looked like the black uniforms of Army of Daniel on his back and screeched the truck to a halt next to the figure.  “Smith?!”

The oddball man who claimed to hear voices from God gave him a flinty-eyed stare and hefted his load, “What…you’re gonna make fun of me too Jeremiah?”

“Uh…no,” Jeremiah could see a fresh mottling of bruises on Smith’s face before his eyes tracked to the uniforms and a new plan began to form in his head, “hey, are they Army of Daniel uniforms?”

“Yeah…what about them?” Smith asked, “I got them off of two yahoos who tried to fucking ambush me while I was fishing.  They thought it was funny…God told me to take those uniforms.  I’m beginning to think he has a sense of humor after all.”

“Can I borrow one?” he bit his lip, driving all thoughts about Smith killing Libby from his mind as his plan began to take shape.

“Um…sure,” Smith checked the uniforms before tossing one into his passenger seat, “that one’s a little more your size.  Kinda big though, you’ll need to roll up the sleeves-“

However, Jeremiah wasn’t listening to him anymore and screeched off, “Thanks!”  He didn’t hear the muttering of Smith behind him as he drove towards his destination.

“-and the waist is just a little loose I think.  The guy was fat…” Smith shook his at the dwindling truck on the road before looking up into the sky.  “So that’s why you wanted me to strip them.  And here I thought it was your perverse humor…”  He tilted his head slightly, hearing another whisper from God before his eyes widened, “Really?  But…why didn’t you…oh…well shit.  Can you at least point me in the direction?”  He turned towards the northwest and resisted the urge to give God the one fingered salute before heading back into the wooded brushes.  This was not good…

                                    *                      *                      *

Jeremiah stopped his truck just a few kilometers north of where the tent was, noting with some irony that it was the same place he had throw Sims off of the cliff with a knife in his chest and hastily changed into the uniform provided by Smith.  To his dismay, the waist was very loose so he quickly rolled it downwards as much as possible without squeezing his family jewels, but tight enough so that it didn’t embarrassingly fall off while he was walking.

Luckily the top half of the uniform was large enough to hide his ill-fitting pants, and he quickly hid his sleeves to a much more proper length before putting on the trademark black cap and combat goggles, hoping that it would disguise his features enough for him not to be recognized by any of the guards that had captured him two days ago.

Rummaging in the back of his truck, he was glad that he had kept some of the armaments in there and procured a machine gun that looked convincingly like the ones Army of Daniel used.  Making sure that he was all set, he headed into the brush and hoped to God that he was able to blend in as an anonymous patrol who had wandered just a little too far to take a piss before returning to his post.

He didn’t have to wander too far when he came upon the first patrol, all whom pointed their guns at him and he raised his hands.  “Whoa…whoa,” he gave them a tentative smile, “it’s just me guys…”

“Rich?  I thought you were taking the road route with Brad?” one of the patrol men asked, confused, but none of them lowered their guns.

“Yeah…well,” Jeremiah was glad that he had the foresight to wear the patrolman’s gloves as with his hands held up, they would have seen the bloody rag he had been using as a makeshift bandage.  “When ya gotta take a piss…”

“All the way out by the cliffs,” the patrolman didn’t look convinced and Jeremiah thought quickly as he slowly lowered his hands.

“I’ve got my orders too…John wanted me to make sure Sims was really dead and not hanging off of some damn branch,” he did not have to fake the venom in his own voice.

“That’s General Sims, Rich…even if he may be a son of bitch traitor that he is,” the patrolman replied before shaking his head, “come on, you’re looking stupid like that anyways.”

“Thanks,” Jeremiah groused before the rest of the men lowered their guns and started to walk back to the small camp.

It wasn’t too far of a walk and Jeremiah suppressed a grin of triumph as he saw that Sims’ tent was definitely still erected before the patrolman that had talked to him suddenly turned around, making him nearly walk straight into him.

“I just realized, you left Brad patrolling alone…” the patrolman looked at him with suspicion and Jeremiah felt sweat bead under his helmet.  “You want to let him know?”

“Already did,” he replied quickly.

“But I thought it was something John-“

“You’re right,” he gave what he hoped was the most confident and smug grin he could think up of, “left him hanging like the motherfucker he is.”

The patrolman looked at him for a long second before bursting out with laughter, startling him as he stepped back from the man’s raucous laughs.  “Aw man….I thought you were fucking with us and you pull yet another fast one.  Good one, man, good one.”

Jeremiah wanted to wipe the trickle of nervous sweat that was falling down the side of his face and laughed tentatively.  “Yeah…”  He wanted to roll his eyes at this man’s stupidity, but knew that it was such an advantage.

The patrolman unhooked his radio and spoke into it, “Delta-Bravo-Two-Three, you read me?  Brad, its Tim.”

There was a moment of silence to which Jeremiah wondered if his cover was going to be blown.  He knew Mister Smith had the other uniform, but did he also have the patrolmen’s radios?

“Hey Timmy, sup man?” to his surprise, it was Mister Smith’s jovial voice coming back, and was that a slight surfer twang he heard in Smith’s voice?

“What the fuck, I told you not to call me Timmy,” Tim the patrolman growled, but a grin was on his lips.

“Whatever man,” Smith replied, “I’ll call you horseshit if I want.”

“We found your wandering partner over here,” Tim continued, “you okay alone down there?  Don’t want no dumbass rebels to kick your ass since your partner decided to abandon you for John’s mission.”

“Nah, I’m fine.  Though you think you can maybe swing by?  Found this little patrol group of rebs and they’re making me a bit antsy.  Haven’t done much, just sit there, but you know…”

Jeremiah immediately knew that Smith was near Ethan’s group and silently hoped that no shots were fired if the two groups did meet.  He hated using Ethan and his men like that, but he also knew that Markus’ mission was more important.

“Fine.  We’ll drag your wandering partner back too,” Tim said, glancing at him with a crooked smile on his face and Jeremiah was about to make up another protesting excuse when Smith’s voice came back.

“Nah…that’s fine.  Heard John wanted something from Sims’ tent.  I think it’s for the negotiations.  You know little extra advantage to us and screw over those rebs?”

Someday, Jeremiah swore, he was going to find out how Mister Smith knew certain details that no one else supposedly knew.  Did Markus tell Smith about his plan?  But that was impossible, Markus had stressed the seriousness of keeping his mission a secret and plus Mister Smith was nowhere to be seen since last night.  There was no way the two of them could have met, even if Smith did run into Markus’ convoy on the way from ThunderMountain to Millhaven.

“Ha, all right.  I’ll some extra men for your posterity Brad,” Tim teased over the radio before signing off and gestured to one of his men who was snickering at the exchange to grab more men before turning to him.  “You find whatever John needs.  We may be having a cease fire right now, but I don’t like those rebs.  I want to know that we’re getting the better end of the deal.”

“Got that,” Jeremiah nodded before heading towards the direction of the tent, noting that if things went south, at least there wouldn’t be too many guards to deal with.  However, it would also put Smith in a very delicate situation…  He hoped that Smith knew what he was doing and knew that Ethan’s group would be there to protect him.

                                    *                      *                      *

Markus had been mildly surprised by the spaciousness of the tent they had been invited into to start negotiations.  It had been erected in the middle of the two factions, and while it was seemingly a neutral point, he also knew that it was a potential death trap if things went south and a shootout occurred.  The tent provided him and John protection from snipers outside, but it was also enclosed enough so that it made everyone on the outside nervous.

But he did appreciate the gesture for some privacy while they hashed out a peace treaty.

However, everyone who entered the tent had to leave their weapons outside and Markus had given up his berretta.  However, he was glad that no one noticed the small switchblade he kept his boot, the same butterfly switchblade that Simon always used, given to him by Jeremiah when he and Kurdy had first arrived at Thunder Mountain nearly a year and half ago.

It was something that Lee had suggested before he had left the Mountain, to carry a concealed weapon on himself just in case something happened.  He had taken to heart what the young Asian man had said and did so.  They had been standing around for at least ten minutes when the tent flaps opened again and in stepped two men and a couple of unarmed guards.

Markus immediately recognized who was the Founder and could not help himself but stare at how old the man was.  He was even older than Meaghan, older than Jeremiah's father Devon, hell if he had to figure out the man's age range, the Founder could have been his grandfather's age.

Even Gina and the men she had brought with her couldn't keep from gasping their surprise and the Founder gave them a sardonic smile, as if he was used to such reactions.

However, the young man next to him, dressed in the dark uniform of the Army of Daniel, but wearing a red-black armband that was the patch of Sims' elite guards stepped forward, giving an unreadable look to the Founder before approaching Markus.  “John,” he introduced himself, “I used to be General Sims' Elite Guard Captain.”

“Markus Alexander,” Markus was well aware that of the lack of a last name for John and knew that this man was well versed in the Outside world.  “I can't prove that I am who I say I am, but I hope that you would believe me.”

“It's better than seeing no one at all and following a false ideal,” John directed a very heated glare back at the Founder that Markus was quite surprised that the man hadn't even been shot or killed yet.

“Even if it was a social-psychological experiment,” the Founder looked mildly at him, “you had to admit Daniel did give you a sense of purpose, food, clothing, and shelter, all of the things you and the rest of the Army would have to scrape by with.”

“Which is why,” Markus cut in smoothly, “we of the Western Alliance would like to help your men and the rest of Army of Daniel make sure that the food, clothing, and shelter are permanent and have another ideal to follow.”

“Which is?” John looked cautious.

“To help your neighbors.  To help each other rebuild the world,” Markus replied quietly, knowing that a shattered faith was very easy to pick back up again.  However, a shattered faith was also very volatile to handle.

“It is no different than what Daniel was offering,” the Founder looked mild and he had a distinct feeling that this was a three-way battle to convince John and to convince the Founder that the Western Alliance meant no harm.  “Forgive me for lack of introductions.  I am Padraig Stein,” the old Founder offered his hand and Markus shook it, noting to some surprise that the man's grip was very firm.  His father and his teachers had told him about body language and the most important thing was handshakes.  A weak handshake showed uncertainty and wariness whereas a firm one was trustworthy and confident, but perhaps may have shown arrogance.

Did Padraig suspect to convince him or even John that Daniel was not going to back off?

“Please, let us sit, an old man's bones isn't what its used to,” Padraig gave them a congenial smile and Markus sat down, nodding to Gina and the other men that they could back off to the corners of the tent  if they wanted to.  He recognized the psychological battle Padraig was warring with him and briefly wondered how much did Daniel know about him.  So far, the balance of power in the negotiations was leaning towards Padraig and Markus knew he had to get it back to him.

“The Western Alliance does not want to usurp the power that Daniel has,” he immediately started, cutting off whatever Padraig the Founder was about to say, “but we do want to extend the hand of friendship to join us and help rebuild the world.”

“As far as I know, we were doing fine,” John looked skeptical.

“Yes,” Markus wanted to add a 'but', however he knew that any negativity would be counter productive, “which is why we want to ask your group to help the communities that are still struggling to bring them back on their feet.  They could use the extra supplies that your group has acquired.  All will be paid back in full after a time with extra harvest or even commerce or trade that goes through all of the Western Alliance groups, but we would like to ask you to lend them a hand.”

John looked at him for a long second before sighing, “Daniel says that whoever can't help themselves deserve to die.  The strong live, the weak die.”

Markus pursed his lips for a second before catching John's eye.  “Daniel says that?  Or did Sims say that?”

“Of course General Sims said that,” Padraig cut in sharply, “Daniel believes that everyone would get an opportunity to prove themselves.  We already give aid and supplies like you are suggesting.  It would be no different if Daniel joined the Western Alliance.”

“I thought Daniel was fake,” here Markus directed his venom and toothy smile towards the Founder.  He saw the dark look Padraig shot at him for falling into his neatly laid trap.

“He may be, but his ideals are true,” the Founder spluttered at him.

“Then if his ideals are true, why is he attacking the Western Alliance and not helping us?  Why bring out such a big army whose purpose is only to annihilate and kill?” Markus focused his attention on Padraig, knowing that John was listening to their conversation very closely, as did everyone else in the tent.  “We have men and women here who were trained to defend their own groups, who are a volunteer force that only want to defend their homes, neighbors, friends, and family.”

“Why did you not join Daniel when it was offered to you?  We already had an established system of order and peace, of protection and safety.  We have commerce, trade, even our own monetary system.  We've already done so much in the fifteen years since the Big Death than the Western Alliance has done,” there was a glint in Padraig's eye that Markus did not like and knew that he had scored a few more points, especially with Gina and the others.

He suddenly wished he had brought Theo with him.  She knew what to say to someone like John who was from the Outside.  In here, he and Padraig had been in the comfort and confines of their respective cities and closed-door communities.  Neither of them knew how to appeal to an Outsider like John, but so far, John was leaning more towards Daniel then towards a potential alliance with the Western Alliance.

“Your man, Vincent, did you ask him the reason why we rejected his offer when he came to ThunderMountain?” he knew he had to tread carefully or risk sounding weak.

“Yes,” was the one word answer.

“Did you tell anyone else?”

“That is...,” Padraig looked a bit annoyed.

“Why not?” Markus jumped on his hesitation and plowed on, “Theo, one of our more charismatic leaders in the Alliance told the assembly that she was pregnant that day.  That she wanted her child to grow up in a better world than she got stuck with.  She wanted the ideal of sharing rather than of things taken by force.  She wanted peace instead of _enslavement_.”

“We do not have slaves,” Padraig said heatedly, “we have workers who are willing-”

“Not from the reports we've gotten,” he cut him off, hearing his own voice rise as he remembered the reports Jeremiah, Kurdy, and Mister Smith had given him when they had infiltrated one of Daniel's cities, built over the remnants of Baltimore.

“And here I thought you were honorable.  Spying doesn't become you, Markus Alexander,” never in his life had he heard someone say his name like a swear word and it made him angry, but he viciously clamped down on the surging anger, knowing that it wouldn't help him.

Instead, he managed to keep his voice level and civil, “At least I don't build a world on lies.”

“And I don't either,” a new voice, calm and collected, interrupted them and everyone in the tent turned to opening flap to see a well dressed man, looking eerily like Vincent.

“Jacob, what are you-”

“My brother, Vincent, told me what happened,” the well-groomed man, Jacob stepped in, the flap closing behind him, “I'm disappointed that we did not get the invitation.  And you, John, I thought Sims would have taught you better.”

“I...” John stared at him, eyes wide and full of fear before looking down his hands, “I thought that it would be for the best.  If the men don't have a true purpose to fight for, then what's the point in fighting for lies?”

“To make those lies a truth, John, John, John,” Jacob shook his head sadly at the man before turning to Padraig and Markus saw the snake-like smile he gave the older man.  Something was wrong here...

“And you...you really thought you could get away with it, didn't you Mr. Stein,” Jacob looked at him with something akin to pity before suddenly drawing out a silenced gun and fired it at Padraig.

There was barely any sound save for a soft _pfft_ , but the bullet tore through the man's right chest and he fell backwards in his chair.  Markus and John leapt up in their seats, backing away from both Jacob and Padraig.  He instinctively held his hands away from his side, the universal gesture that he didn’t want any trouble as Jacob brought his gun to bear at them.

“Don’t move, any of you,” Jacob swept the gun towards the other guards, and Markus noticed out of the corner of his eyes Gina and her three men shrinking back, nodding their assent as they also held their hands up, “my men are outside and while we don’t want any messy accidents to happen that may alert your friends, we are willing to shoot any of you if you prove to be uncooperative.”

“What do you want,” Markus did not like the look the handsome man wore as he stared at the guards and sought to divert his attention back onto him.  He had a feeling that Jacob was much like his brother Vincent, a charismatic speaker, but with a psychotic edge if his word so far proved anything.

“Ah, the main star of our event, Markus Alexander,” Jacob smiled congenially at him before his gun to his left hand and extended a hand out to him to shake.  Markus wanted to glare at the man and not shake his hand, but he wasn’t that stupid.

He tentatively shook his hand, surprised at how firm, almost painful Jacob’s grip was before he released it and switched the gun back to his right hand, “There, now, that wasn’t so bad was it, Markus?”

This man was definitely very confident in whatever plan he had for them.  “No, it wasn’t,” he replied, “now if you don’t mind, can we sit back down?  We were in the middle of a discussion.”

“Hmm?” Jacob looked mildly disinterested for a second before nodding and gesturing for them to sit back down, “Oh, yeah, sure.  Be my guests.”  He took Padraig’s seat, sitting down with his gun on the table, still in his hands, but not quite pointed at them.

Markus shook his head minutely before catching Gina’s eye and wordlessly gestured for her to attend to Padraig.  However, just as she started to move towards the dying man, Jacob shook his head and pointed his gun at her, halting her in her tracks.  “No.  Move back little girl, unless you want a bullet in your head.”

“He’s dying!” Markus could not believe how cruel someone could be and immediately shut up, clenching his fists as the gun suddenly pointed at him.  He bit his lip and breathed heavily through his nose before glaring at Jacob.  “At least…let him be comfortable in his last moments…”

Jacob smiled, all teeth, “No.  You would like that because you’re used to the creature comforts of ThunderMountain, aren’t you?”  He turned to John and shook his head conversationally, “You see, John, its people like him that Daniel was trying to warn us about.  Even though yes, Daniel is fake, his ideals are still true-“

Markus felt his temper rise as he couldn’t believe that such a callous man would leave someone dying on the ground just inches away without any care in the world.  Hell even Valhalla Sector would have been decently human to at least make sure a dying man was comfortable in his last moments.

“-and it is people like Markus here, who will lead the world into darkness once more.  You see…softness,” Jacob suddenly glanced down at Padraig before suddenly firing another clip into man’s head, finally ending his torment, “or even harsh deception cannot rule the world.”

Markus could only shake his head at the blatant cruelty Jacob showed.  “You think that it’s only softness and harsh deception?” he started softly, “it’s people like you.  People who do not even care for others or even the consequences of your actions cannot rule the world.  Its people like you who created the Big Death-“

The butt end of the pistol whipped across his face and he felt his neck snap from the force of the blow, stinging pain across the right side of his face flaring up, but continued his temper mounting.  “-who don’t realize the consequence of what they’re doing!  You think just because you can create fear, you can rule it?!  That is pure bullshit!”

Suddenly Jacob leapt up from the table and pointed the barrel of the silenced weapon into his head, his face inches from his.  Markus refused to allow the sudden burst of fear that had filled him flood into his face and stared angrily into the man’s face.  “Feeling fearful right now?” Jacob hissed, some of his spittle flying into his own face, “cause you should be.”

The barrel abruptly left his face and Jacob fired three shots, dropping the three men who had accompanied him and Gina onto the ground in wordless heaps, bullets embedded in the middle of their foreheads.  Gina muffled her cry as the barrel tracked her and Markus saw fear and tears light up her features as she muffled her gasp before falling to her knees, her eyes begging him not to shoot her.  “Please…” she whispered brokenly before Jacob suddenly stepped back from him, an oddly satisfied look on his face.

“You feeling the fear now?” Jacob’s eyes flashed maniacally before suddenly firing the gun in his direction.

Fierce pain bloomed in his upper arm and Markus felt the bullet impact before he grabbed his arm to staunch the immediate blood flow.  He winced and couldn’t keep the hiss of pain emerging from his mouth as he gritted his teeth and grimaced.  He couldn’t even lift his left arm, partially because he felt so numb from the arm down and plus when he had tried to flex his hand, little sharp knives of agony spread from his arm too his chest.

“Sir!” Gina cried before falling silent once more and he looked sideways at her to see Jacob point the gun back at her direction, his eyes flashing a warning for her not to move.

“I’m…all right,” he tried to reassure her even though he knew that he wasn’t.  The bullet had not exited out, which meant that it was still lodged inside.  He could feel his own hot blood streaming in little pulses of his heartbeat from the wound and knew that it was bad, but not bad enough that he was going to bleed his whole body’s worth of blood out here.

“You see, John,” Jacob’s voice sounded distant as he could seemingly hear the rush of blood pumping in his veins and grabbed onto his wound to try to staunch the blood flow as he forced himself to sit up straight in his seat, and glare defiantly at the sadistic man.  “Fear will rule this world.  Fear of what is known, and even the unknown.  Do you remember what Daniel said about Valhalla Sector and its use of fear?  How they wanted to turn us into guinea pigs for their experiments with the Big Death?”

“Y-Yeah,” John looked scared.

Markus briefly wondered how did they know about Valhalla Sector and the Big Death experiments when he realized that Libby might have spilled everything about Valhalla, or even the people in Millhaven who were pro-Daniel, but serving Valhalla.  Hell, Daniel was an experiment by Valhalla Sector social-psychologists.  It stood that they probably knew everything there was to know about Valhalla Sector.  It also made him realize how long he had been holed up in the Mountain, afraid of risking the paradise within the Mountain when he should have been gathering information.  Jeremiah was right…

“The reason the Big Death wasn’t prevented was the compassionate,” here Jacob gave him a nasty smile, “were too scared to kill those who were carrying the Big Death.  They were too scared to kill off a few hundred thousand that had contracted the Big Death just to save the billions on Earth.  It would have been genocide, they said.  Well, look at us now…”

“Kill a few to save millions?” John asked and Markus shook his head.

“No,” he forced himself to sit up straighter and look at John, “no one should have that power.  Yes, it would have been genocide, yes it may have been the right thing to do, but that’s the past.  Right now, there are so few of us left…those of us that survived.”  He took a breath, wincing at the sharp stabbing needles of pain, “We can’t let a group of few rule over us in fear anymore.  We need to work together.  Right now, fear isn’t needed.  We need to help each other.  We let those few take over and there goes our liberties and what we’ve all stood for.”

He looked at John, ignoring Jacob, “Ask yourself this, why did you survive?  Was it to be ruled over by those who you would fear or did you survive to make sure you stood up help others?”

“Pretty speech, Markus,” Jacob clapped mockingly before looking at John, “I offer you this John.  A chance to redeem yourself if you want to be part of this new world order.”

John looked at Jacob, fear still evident in his eyes, but for the first time and to Markus’ dismay, he saw a hunger for power in the young man’s eyes.  He realized that Jacob’s silkily pretty words were getting to the young man and knew that he had underestimated how powerful Sims’ Elite Guard commander was in the army.  He had been treating John like a fellow soldier, a common person when he should have been treating him like a leader.  John did not want to see like equals.  He was too indoctrinated in Daniel’s philosophy and wanted power.

But the fear was still evident, and it meant that perhaps he still had a chance…he hoped.

“Take this young lady,” Jacob gestured to Gina with his gun, “back up to the lovely folks that Markus leads-“

“I don’t lead anyone; they banded together to protect-“ the sucker punch to his stomach made him bend forward and all breath left him as he gasped.

“-and tell them that Markus would like to negotiate more in a more private setting.  We will bring choppers in,” Jacob continued, “This is your chance to redeem yourself, John.”

“A-All right,” John nodded reluctantly and stood up tentatively before walking over to Gina and pulled her up roughly.

“Don’t,” Markus found the air to gasp out loud, “don’t do it…don’t…”  He trailed off as he tried to catch his breath once more.

“Oh, John,” Jacob’s tone was pleasant, but the expression he wore on his face was nothing but, “if the girl speaks, you can kill her, but I would do it with some discretion.”  He tossed him a knife before John visibly gulped and nodded then prodded Gina out.

Markus shared a look with Jeremiah’s attaché and wanted to tell her that it was all right, but he closed his mouth as he saw the defeated and fearful look she wore.  He didn’t blame her, as she disappeared from the tent, she was from the Outside and he knew that most in the Outside still didn’t trust him or any of the Mountain people.  The Outsiders thought that they were still too soft, even though they had given aid.  She and the others would rather save their own skins than help someone out if force was shown…it was the way of the Outside world.

Turning back to Jacob, he saw that the man had also arrived at the same conclusion he did regarding Gina and a predatory smile was on his face.  Markus shook his head, feeling suddenly older than his twenty-nine years and spoke up quietly, “What do you want?”

“You, Markus, are a smart man,” Jacob said in a conversational tone, “and I can use that.”

“I’m not going to work for you, you son of a bitch, if that’s what you mean,” he spat, feeling lightheaded, but noted that the pain his arm had dulled and while he still felt blood on his hand compressing his wound, it wasn’t as bad as minutes ago.

“No, no, I didn’t think so,” Jacob shrugged, “but I still believe you could be useful to us.  You see, you are a nexus, a conduit and beacon for those around you.  You and your friend Jeremiah.”  The handsome man smiled, “Oh yes, we know all about Jeremiah too.  See, Gabriel Sims talked just a little too much about him and was obsessed with him.  I think he was focusing on the wrong nexus.”

“And you think it’s me,” Markus said sarcastically, “I’m flattered.  Why don’t you kill me now, since I’m the nexus you think I am.”

“No, see, it doesn’t work that way,” Jacob spoke to him as if speaking to a child and tapped the barrel of his gun on the table as he sat back down, “if I killed you, then someone else would be able to come up and take over what you’ve created.  That’s not what I want.  What I want is for you to understand, to realize the truth.”

“That you guys are sadistic bastards who would use fear to rule others?  No fucking thanks.”

“That the populace, the remnant of the United States of America has always been ruled by fear and obedience.  And that there is nothing you can do about it except go with the flow.  That order is the natural flow of the world.  Your chaotic attempts to create this new government will fail and I guarantee, you will live long enough to see that.”

Jacob looked at him with a simple gaze, “And when you do die, you will die with the words on your lips saying that I was right.”

                                    *                      *                      *

Kurdy rolled his head in a slow circle, stretching out his neck muscles as he stood by a small group of volunteer soldiers who were half-crouched by the sandbag barriers, some of them still pointed their guns down at the men and women of Army of Daniel, but most of them had propped them up and were just loitering, a complete and utterly bored look on their faces.

He had only gotten back a few minutes ago to find that Markus had already gone down to start negotiations and Jeremiah was no where to be seen.  Some of the townsfolk had said that they saw Jeremiah drive away, but did not know why he had left.  Kurdy wondered if his friend had deigned to join Ethan’s group holed up near Sims’ tent after he had gotten that radio transmission.

He mentally shrugged and forced himself to focus.  He was now the nominal person in charge of the city since Gina was apparently escorting Markus down to the negotiations and had checked in with Erin at ThunderMountain.  So he had a suspicious feeling when he saw Gina and a person dressed in the uniforms of the Army of Daniel walking up towards them.

He hurled past the sandbag barrier and hurried down towards them and skidded to a stop when he saw Gina’s frightful face.  Something was definitely wrong and looked at the tent beyond, sitting innocently in the middle of the potential battlefield.  “What’s going on?”

“The…Founder, no, sorry, your leader asked if he could conduct negotiations in a more private setting,” on close up, Kurdy recognized the man as John, the one Jeremiah had said had released him after he was told the truth by the Founder.  However, he could see the hesitancy in John’s eyes and looked at him shrewdly.

“Really?” he did not believe a single word and turned to Gina, “this true?  Markus wants to move from this place?”

“I…uh…” Gina looked back at John, her lip trembling and Kurdy knew something was definitely wrong.  He had personally trained Gina, she was one of the best and she would never, ever, defer to anyone else.  She was sarcastic, bubbly, and a natural leader.  She had wanted to lead the charge in defending themselves against the Army of Daniel back when they thought they were going to be attacked.

“What the fuck is going on?” Kurdy demanded, looking back and forth between the two of them just as the distant _thwoop-thwoop_ of rotors made him glance up in the sky before two helicopters, an Apache and Blackhawk buzz overhead.

He ducked a bit before following their route and saw the Blackhawk land right by the tent, its massive rotors blowing any near by tents away with its force and realized that there wasn’t any proposal to negotiate.  They were kidnapping Markus!

“H-Hey!” he called out before suddenly John grabbed him by the front of his shirt and he reacted instinctively to the attack.  He wrestled the man’s wrists from the front of his shirt and was about to punch him in the face when he noticed the terrified and apologetic expression on the man’s face.

“I’m…sorry!  So sorry!” John cried as tears fell down his face, “He told me to…but I couldn’t…I….”  John’s grip on his shirtfront slackened as he fell to the ground weeping, but Kurdy stepped roughly over him, running down towards the tent, seeing the distant figures of at least two people manhandling what looked like Markus to the Blackhawk.

He only got a few steps when the Apache’s guns burst to life, pelting the area with bullets and Kurdy cried out, backing up and throwing himself to the side to avoid the spray of bullets.  He hear the distant cries of the others above him as they ducked underneath the sandbag barriers before the Apache turned its guns on the tents and sprayed that area to prevent anyone else from following onto the Blackhawk.

He could only watch in horror as he saw the Blackhawk finally lift itself from the ground and quickly fly to the east, the Apache firing its guns at them before taking off after the Blackhawk to escort it to wherever.

“They took Markus!  Get them!” Gina’s shrill war cry echoed out and Kurdy stood up hastily, realizing who Gina’ meant before he held up his hands and waved at the volunteer army.

“No, wait!  Stop!  I said stop!” he yelled, halting the soldiers from making their run towards Army of Daniel.  “They didn’t do it!  They had no fucking clue!”  He realized that the reason why the Apache had shot bullets at the Army tents was to prevent them from thinking that they were taking their Founder or whoever hostage.  At least that was what he hoped was happening.   Either way, he did not want a blood bath…

“Kurdy, sir!  We’re getting reports that someone’s attacking Ethan’s unit!” a voice made him look up to see one of the soldiers holding a radio.

“Anyone else?!” he quickly asked.

“No, just Ethan’s…” the soldier replied, “that proves-“

“Nothing, not a thing.  Could be a rogue faction,” Kurdy thought quickly before pointing his finger at two of the platoon leaders, “You and you, get your men up to Sims’ tent area.  That’s where Ethan is.  Tell Ethan to find Jeremiah and tell him that Markus was kidnapped.”

“Sir!” they both replied before hurrying to follow his orders and Kurdy turned his attention to Gina.

“Gina, you okay?”

“Y-Yeah…” she replied fearfully, her teeth chattering a bit but she nodded.

“Good, because I need you to keep an eye out on things here.  I don’t want a bloodbath.  Anyone who fires a shot from our end into the Army of Daniel, will answer to me personally,” Kurdy made sure his last words were heard loud and clear by all of the soldiers who were by the sandbags and he saw most of them reluctantly nod.  “Let them fire the first shot.  We’re not going to start a war, but if they want one, we’ll finish it for them.”

The murmurs of yeah and agreement ran throughout the small group before he glared down at John who was still quivering and crying.  “You,” he grabbed the man by his uniform vest front and hauled him up until they were eye to eye, “are going to the Mountain with me.  You’re going to tell me and Erin everything you know and what just happened.  You’re going to tell us where they took Markus.”

“But…my…men,” John choked out and Kurdy tightened his grip, cutting him off.

“I hope they’re smart enough to realize what just happened.  And if they are that stupid, well, we’ll kick their asses,” he growled before hauling him off to the truck.

He’ll be damned if Daniel thought he had won by kidnapping Markus.

                                    *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            I’ve noticed similarities between _Babylon_ _5_ and _Jeremiah_ and since both shows were written by J. Michael Straczynski I figured I give it a shot and blend the two themes together.  That is why John sounds like Justin from _Z’ha’dum_ and why Markus sounds a bit like Sheridan.  Except eagle-eyed readers and those familiar with both series can see me twisting the Shadow/Vorlon dynamic in there (chaos/order).  I don’t know when the next update is since this is a work in progress, but I hope this will follow my _Robin Hood (BBC)_ format of a virtual Season 3.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

 

**Author’s Disclaimer:**

            I happen to be a Markus Alexander fan so forgive me if many of my _Jeremiah_ stories end up with a slant towards him.  Don’t worry; I won’t leave any of the other characters out, especially our title character, Jeremiah.


	2. Part 2: Confession

Jeremiah: Echoes and Shadows

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Disclaimer:**

_Jeremiah_ and its characters are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Sam Egan, Luke Perry, MGM/UA, and Showtime. This story is for amusement only and I didn’t get any money for it. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

**Timeframe:** Immediately after “ _Interregnum – Part 2_ ”

 

**Story:**

_Part 2 – Confession_

 

The first thing Jeremiah noticed was that Sims’ tent was pretty spacious as he slipped in and started to poke around for any useful information that would be able to pinpoint the locations of Army of Daniel forces.  The sparsely remaining guards around the tent had let him in after Tim had notified them of his intent and he had to suppress a smile at their gullibility.

His eyes immediately tracked to a fairly large map that sat on a table in the middle of the tent, black and white chess pieces placed near each other.  Studying the map, he noticed that it was a map of the Millhaven-Four Roads area...and surmised that the white pieces were the Western Alliance forces while the black ones surrounding the white were Army of Daniel forces.

It looked like a flanking maneuver, at least that was what he thought it was, but this was no help to what Markus wanted.  He studied the pieces a bit more carefully, trying to commit where the black pieces were for his own posterity.  Markus may not be able to use the information, but he would be able to use it for his own purposes if the Army decided to attack in the middle of negotiations.

After a few minutes, he stepped back, satisfied that he had memorized at least where the general chess pieces were and turned his attention to a small stack of maps sitting on one of the seats.  The first few looked like old world maps, things that would be of no use to Markus or anyone else at ThunderMountain before he flipped over another map and froze.

There was a small fold on the map, but something about it, the wear of it caught Jeremiah's eye and he placed the rest of the maps back on the chair before tentatively opening the one he had in his hand.  It was not a big map like the one on the table, but by god it was scribbled liberally with pen marks, even pencil marks all over.

“Whoa,” he whispered softly as he stared at the map.  It was of the United States and the main scribbles he noticed were big bold letters that pointed out Valhalla Sector, ThunderMountain, Baltimore, New York City and couple of other big cities and towns like St. Louis and even Millhaven.  Millhaven even had exclamation points next to it and he had no doubt it was because Sims had been pissed at him.

However, he noticed a couple of different cities, Seattle included and even Los Angeles with symbols next to them.  But the main thing he noticed was the same type of symbols near ThunderMountain and a lot of them near Millhaven.  Were they Army of Daniel forces?  And if so...it meant that there was a small patrol force near ThunderMountain.  And surrounding Danbury...and some of the smaller towns around the Mountain's protective sphere that extended all the way out to Millhaven.

This was what Markus was looking for...

He hastily folded the worn map up and stuffed it deep into his clothes before heading out of the tent, in time to see some of the remaining guards around the area running around in a flurry.

“What's-” he tried to ask a guard before he rushed past him, “-going on...”

“Who's side are you on?!” the distinct click of a machine gun being cocked froze him to the spot and he turned slightly to see two of the Elite Guards point their guns at him.

He held his hands up and away from his body, “I have no clue-”

“He's with John!  I saw that bastard Tim vouch for him,” the other guard shoved the gun into his face and Jeremiah instinctively backed up.

“I'm not-”

“Let's kill him,” the guard cut him off.

“No, wait!” Jeremiah shouted before ripping off his helmet and goggles, “I'm with you guys.  See?  I'm...not working for John or Tim!”

“Yeah...right,” the Elite Guard that had shoved his gun into his face looked skeptical, “You're just saying that to cover your own ass.”

“No, wait,” Jeremiah realized that something was terribly wrong...something had happened that apparently splintered the Army of Daniel and especially the Elite Guard.  “I'm...Michael.  I only faked Tim out so I can get some important information for _him_.”  He hope that whoever their leader was, it was guy instead of a girl.  God help him if it was a girl who instigated the split.  He also sent a quick prayer up to his younger brother in Heaven for using his name.

“Jacob?  Really?” the guard looked at him suspiciously.

“Yeah,” Jeremiah hoped his lie was convincing enough and prayed that the guard didn't fire his gun at him otherwise he would be a dead man.  Something was happening, something between John and this new mysterious man named Jacob.  And he had all of his possessions in the world bet on the fact that it also involved Markus, and not in a good way.

“Sir, we've got movement,” a young teen, no more than at least fourteen spoke up next to his shoulder, directing his gaze towards the guard that was holding his rifle in his face.

“Shit, all right,” the guard cursed before giving him a long look then glanced down at the gawky teen.  “I want you to keep an eye on Michael here, all right?  He makes any funny moves to warn Tim and his men, you put a bullet between his eyes, all right?”

“Yes sir,” the teen replied before taking out his own handgun and pointing it straight at Jeremiah as the two other guards shouldered their guns and headed down the hill and deeper into the woods.  He had no doubt that they were headed towards Tim's position...he could only hope that Smith's God rantings told him that something big was going down.

“What's your name?” he glanced at the gawky teen, giving him a look.

“Peter and don't even think about moving Mikey.  I ain't a sharpshooter for nuthin',” the kid sounded fearless and he briefly wondered if it was false bravado or real skill that made the kid sound like that.  He had ran into too many wannabes who threatened him to feel any sort of fear when someone shorter than he was, at least half of his age was pointing a gun at him.

An old movie quote  floated somewhere in the back of his mind.  “You're liable to shoot your eye out kid...”

“Huh?” Peter looked at him, confused.

“Never mind,” Jeremiah could not remember where the quote was from, but he knew it was pretty damned funny when it was said, because his father had laughed and in turn that had always made him and his brother laugh too.  He looked around, no one else was even near the tent anymore, however, he noticed a very odd colored lump and walked over to it, noting that Peter was following him, gun trained on his every move.

“The fuck you doin'?” Peter asked as he got closer to the lump and realized it was a body.

Not any body, but the body of one of the Elite Guards.  He toed the body over and immediately grimaced at the death-mask face the man wore.  It was one of surprised pain and it was not a pretty sight.

“Ah...yeah, see you make any funny moves, you'll end up like him.  Jacob's taking care of us now.  We're not going to follow some spineless loser like John,” Peter said triumphantly at him and he turned and glared at the kid.

“Listen kid, how many people have you killed, I mean really killed.  Watch them die as the life gets sucked out of their eyes.  Watch them bleed at your feet, screaming obscenities,” he was really aggravated by this snot nosed brat.

“Whatever,” the kid shrugged before emptying a bullet into the body, making it twitch involuntarily and Jeremiah jumped a bit before the kid pointed the gun back at him.  “Listen, I figure I shoot you now, then I can join the others in flushing out those...” he trailed off and Jeremiah heard the distant report of guns being fired and knew something had erupted between Jacob's group and John's group.

“Well,” Peter started conversationally and drew back the hammer on his gun, “sorry about this...no wait, I'm not sorry-”

Jeremiah took his chance and leapt at the kid, one hand clawing at the gun, the other punching him swiftly in the face before kicking him in the groin.  The gun went off and he felt its passage by his cheek before he finally managed to slam the back of Peter's hand against a rock, making him cry out in pain before loosening  his grip on the gun.  He kicked the gun away before grunting as Peter punched him in the stomach and tried to claw at his face.

However, Jeremiah was more experienced in fighting the kid and immediately grabbed his hands and wrenched them backwards before whirling around and locking the kid in a headlock.  He applied pressure to Peter's neck and a few seconds later, felt the kid go limp in his arms as he fell unconscious.  He waited one more second to be sure before releasing his grip and dropped his body on the mossy ground.

Scrambling across the ground, he picked up the dropped hand gun and picked up his discarded assault rifle and headed away from the gunfire and back up towards his truck.  He knew he had some extra firepower stashed in the back of his truck; hopefully he would be able to at least approach Ethan's position and help them in that way.  As soon as he got to his truck, he turned it on and with a squeal of tires, drove back onto the road and sped towards the area that Ethan and his group were huddled in.

“Ethan!” he called on his radio, “I'm headed your way!”

“Negative, boss!  We're pinned down-” static washed over the transmission before Ethan's harried voice came back over, “-to safety - - being attacked - - Markus - ...”

“Wait, repeat that?!” he called over again.

“Kurdy - - Markus - - !” Ethan replied, “I don't know - - Roads - - attacked.”

“Shit,” Jeremiah cursed before suddenly slamming on the breaks hard enough so that he was flung forward against his restraints and winced as he felt the bruises he had sustained fighting Sims howl their fury at him.  When he recovered enough he stuck his head out of the window.  “Smith!  What the fuck were you thinking?!  That's twice now!!”

It was oddly disconcerting to see Smith dressed in his regular clothes, bruises still fresh on his face, but what looked like an assault rifle and some blood flecked on it.

“God says that I can help,” Smith shrugged before rounding the front of the truck, seemingly unconcerned that if Jeremiah had not stopped in the middle of the road, he would have been completely flattened.

“Yeah, well you can help by not jumping out in the middle of the road and letting people run you over,” Jeremiah shot back before he realized how ridiculous he sounded.  Only ThunderMountain and a handful of people had workable cars and trucks so there was barely any motor traffic.  Then the idea came to him.  “Get in the back.”

“But-”

“You're manning the RPGs,” he cut Smith off before the man's eyes widened with an 'oh' of comprehension and he dumped his pack in the passenger seat before hurrying to the back.  A few seconds later, he knocked on the metal separating the front from the back to indicate that he was in and set and Jeremiah sped off once more.  He thought he heard a yelp of fright from the back over the roaring engine, but he wasn't too sure and thus ignored it.

He picked up the radio again, “Ethan, tell your men to hang on, help is on the way,” he hoped Ethan was still alive and drove recklessly towards the man's position.  However, as he approached the area, he slowed down as he saw two troop transport trucks, both on fire, all of the volunteer soldiers inside killed.

“What is it?” Smith peeked his head out of the flap separating the two parts of the truck and looked forlornly at the carnage before them.  “God find peace in their souls,” he muttered.

“Hang onto something,” Jeremiah said as he shifted gears before stomping on the gas pedal and shot forward.  He managed not to close his eyes as they slammed past the wreckage, but winced as he felt the heat of the fire brush his skin for a split second before the cool wind of winter licked the heat straight off and they continued on.

He rounded a corner and saw Ethan and what remained of his group pinned down behind the hulking smoking wreckage of what remained of their two troop transport vehicles, a few of them occasionally firing into the woods.  He smiled grimly as he saw Ethan's second-in-command, a young girl named Iris wave at them before Ethan quickly pulled her down from a spray of fire before pointing upwards.

Jeremiah was confused as to why the man did so before he looked up and a pit of fear wormed its way into his stomach as an Apache flew into view, flanked by what looked like a Blackhawk.  He didn't know much about helicopters, but he instantly recognized the massive amount of armaments the Apache was bristling with and suddenly shifted his truck into reverse.  The jarring force of his forward momentum made him slam briefly against his steering wheel before he began to back up just as a missile was fired towards him.  He managed to barely avoid the missile by sheer luck and spun the wheel in a quarter turn, nearly sending his truck careening before he yelled towards the back.

“Smith!  The copter!” he hoped Smith would understand as a whooshing sound fired from the back.  He saw through the mirrors the Apache sitting in the air before a split second later it exploded as the RPG Smith fired rang true and a cheer escaped his lips.

“Ethan!” he screamed, poking his head out of the window and gesturing for him and his men to pile onto the back of his truck and they did so without hesitation.  He saw one of them haul an injured one along, all of them firing into the woods to deter any pursuit before a clambering noise made him look to see Ethan joining him up front.

“Go!” Ethan shouted and Jeremiah needed no other hesitation as he shifted to second gear and sped off.  He didn't dare look behind him just in case there was pursuit and instead kept his foot on the pedal.

“There's a problem boss,” Ethan said breathlessly, “Markus has been kidnapped.”

                                    *                      *                      *

He wanted to go back to ThunderMountain, but his first instinct was to check Millhaven and Four Roads to see what kind of battlefield it had turned into.  He would be damned if the town he had began to call home was in smoldering ruins.  As he pulled into town, he was mildly surprised that not one single building was on fire, but there were definitely a lot of the volunteer soldiers milling about, guns held uneasily about them.

Jeremiah pulled the truck up to the front of his own house and turned the engine off and hopped out, just as Gina came up to him, pale-faced, but otherwise looking unharmed.  “Gina?” he greeted, wondering what had gotten the woman so scared.

“K-Kurdy says that we shouldn't fire on those bastards down in the valley,” her teeth chattered, but he suspected that it wasn't from the cold.

“What happened?” he asked as he heard Smith call for medics to help Ethan's unit out from the back of the truck before the oddball walked over to them.

“Markus was taken by that bastard Jacob,” she directed a heated glare towards the Army of Daniel tents down in the valley, “he tricked us.  Tricked all of us.  Just sauntered right in like he owned the God-dammed place and shot the Founder, Padraig, shot Markus-”

“Wait, Markus was shot?!” Jeremiah managed to keep his voice down at the news.  He did not need to incite a panic amongst the folks here.

“Shoulder, I think,” Gina pointed towards her own, “he said he was fine...I was so scared, Jeremiah...I mean he had a gun, was shooting up everyone.  Killed Andy, Rachel, and Kurt...”

“Gina,” he gripped her shoulders tightly, recognizing that she was babbling out of fear, “Gina, listen.  Focus.  Tell me what happened.  What happened after he shot Markus.”

“He...I...he told John to tell Kurdy and the others that Markus wanted to conduct negotiations in a more private setting.  He told John that he could kill me if I talked.  I'm so sorry...I didn't realize,” she hiccuped as tears started to escape from her eyes, “when we got to the ridge, John collapsed, saying he was sorry then helicopters came.  I thought they were going to wait for John!  Jacob said so...”

“No...he was just a distraction,” Jeremiah murmured mostly to himself before shaking Gina slightly, “where did Kurdy go?”

“He...said he was going back to ThunderMountain with John.  Should we attack?  Kurdy says no, that they're innocent, but no one is innocent!” her voice suddenly turned shrill and angry.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down,” he had to restrain her flailing arms before shaking his head, glad that Kurdy had the foresight to at least make sure no one shot each other while he was gone.  He just hoped that Gina would be able to maintain that calm.  “Kurdy's right.  For all we know, this could have been a splinter group from the Army of Daniel that decided to allow thousands of innocent soldiers get slaughtered so they can get what they want.  Even the Elite Guards were fighting up by the command tent.”

“You sure?” Gina sounded doubtful.

“I don't know, but I don't want to be the first one  to fire any shots,” Jeremiah shook his head, “listen.  Keep an eye on things here.  Smith and I need to get back to the Mountain to see what kind of rescue we can mount.  Don't tell anyone what happened to Markus.  I don't want a panic.  If you guys are attacked, call us at once.”

“But what do I tell them if they ask?” Gina looked at him plaintively.

Jeremiah resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “Some asshole decided to crash the party just because they didn't like that we weren't killing each other.”

“Really?” her voice had light sarcasm and he was glad that she was finally getting a grip on her emotions.

“I don't know.  Just don't tell anyone Markus was shot, all right?” he let her go and climbed back into the truck along with Smith just as Ethan wandered over.  “Ethan, you okay?”

“Lost both Xander and Emily.  Medics say that Emma may lose her leg, but she'll survive,” the young man looked tired.

“You and Gina, watch the people here.  We'll be back.  Call us immediately if the Army moves in a way you don't like,” he said.

“Gotcha boss,” Ethan saluted him with two fingers, “and thanks for the save back there.”

“Not a problem,” Jeremiah smiled grimly before starting the truck up again and sped off, headed back to ThunderMountain.

                                    *                      *                      *

Lee Chen paced back and forth in the massive garage of the first floor of ThunderMountain, trying to contain his worry and anger.  Next to him, apparently containing her worry and restlessness better than he was, was Erin.  Kurdy had called over the radio just a little over two hours ago saying that negotiations went sour and Markus had been kidnapped and captured by rogue elements within the Army of Daniel.

He had felt the pit of dread that had formed even before Markus had left in the wee early morning hours grow deeper and had immediately wanted to order that the volunteer force do everything within their  power to bring him back, but he knew that it was a futile gesture and that Erin would override whatever he said.

Markus may have somewhat trusted him, and had even gave him a conditional reinstatement to his position as Head of Security, but he knew that it wasn't the same with the others in ThunderMountain, especially the Council.  He knew he could scream at them all day telling them that he was loyal to Markus and to the Mountain, but they wouldn't believe him, not after all he had done to betray their trust.  It was emotionally draining and disheartening to see such disgust on most of their faces.

But he had vowed to keep his heart strong, if not for what Markus was building, but for what Markus believed in.  He had lost so much and while Valhalla Sector had taken  him in, Devon had taken him under his wing, but it was Markus who showed him his true heart and nature.  He owed the man his life...and it wasn't metaphorically.  He remembered one of the incidents that had occurred after they had taken Andrew, his brother, and a couple of other refugees in that one of them was determined to open the doors to let his own gang come in and take over the place.

Lee had found himself at the wrong end of a gun pointed at his chest and had thought he was going to die from the gunshot wound when Markus literally saved his life and also had killed his assailant.  It was the only time he had ever seen their calm and fearless leader kill someone.  The other time was just less than twenty-four hours ago, when he and Markus had exacted their revenge against the infiltrators for the Army of Daniel.

Except Lee saw that Markus was aiming to wound, while he had been aiming to kill in that firefight.

He shook his head at the memories.  God help those fuckers who kidnapped Markus.  When he got his hands on them...

“He's here,” Erin's words cut through his dark thoughts and he glanced up to see Kurdy's jeep pull up with a screech of tires before he hopped out and rounded to the other side, pulling his passenger out roughly before giving him a shove towards them.

Lee narrowed his eyes as he assessed the man, dressed in the uniform of the Army of Daniel.  He looked scuffed up and sweat shone on his face, but his eyes were full of fear.  He had expected defiance, but fear...

“This is...?” he injected as much disdain as he could and glanced at Kurdy.  The black man had his respect, but he would never fully trust him, not after all of the bad blood between them.  He knew he had been very lucky to gain his trust after he had chased him all over Colorado before their assault on Valhalla Sector.

“John,” Kurdy's lips curled into a sneer as he glared at the man, “says that he didn't know Markus was going to be kidnapped.”

“I...I swear,” John's voice cracked, “I didn't know.  I had to get out of there; had to-”

“Save your own skin, we know,” Lee couldn't believe what the man was saying and grabbed him by his vest front, “you're not nothing but a coward.”

“I'm sorry...I...” John looked so scared, “please don't kill me.  I swear, I didn't know Jacob was going to be there.  Sims didn't say anything about him being there.  He said that this was his command, his chance to exact revenge.”

“Well Sims is dead,” while Lee did not know the exact details of Sims' death, he knew enough from his questioning of the spies and from what others in Millhaven and Clarefield said to him that Jeremiah had killed Sims.  “He's not here to protect your ass so you better start talking.  And it looks like Jacob abandoned you too...”

“Where did Jacob take Markus?” Erin demanded, coming up next to them.

“I...I don't know,” John shook his head, eyes wide and Lee tightened his grip ever so slightly, “I swear!  I don't know!  Jacob wasn't supposed to be here!  He's supposed to be back at Baltimore, preparing for the assault on Valhalla!”

“Valhalla?!” Lee hissed quietly, twisting his grip.  While he knew he and Jeremiah would probably never get along, he and Devon however, had a  good working relationship.  If the Army of Daniel was planning to attack Valhalla Sector then Devon and the rest of the Mountain's personnel had to be warned.

John immediately froze and stopped squirming in his grip as he realized he had spilled a very big secret.  Lee also noticed at the same time that the man was still loyal to the Army of Daniel, not necessarily to this Jacob, but most definitely still loyal to the fake man's ideals.  He let a feral smile appear on his face before unceremoniously tossing the man to the two guards that had accompanied them.  “Room 2...leave him cuffed to the chair.  Lights off,” he ordered and tried to ignore the look one gave to Erin who nodded her assent before following his orders.  At least a few of the guards believed him.  But it looked like less believed that he was true to ThunderMountain.

“That's not good,” Kurdy muttered and Lee turned on him.

“You think?” he ran a hand through his hair, feeling frustrated before turning to Erin, “Do you know where Markus kept my satellite phone?  I need to warn Devon.”

“What about Markus?” Erin looked at him like he had grown another head and Lee knew that she was just as worried about Markus as he was, if not more.  He knew he had interrupted a moment between the two of them when he had walked in on their dinner date.  He had heard the soft music piping through and was glad that his leader had started to move on after Meaghan's death, but he had also noticed the hurt look Erin had on her face when he had interrupted them.

He originally had not wanted to ruin the moment, but he also knew that Markus' thoughts were first and foremost on the safety of the people of the Mountain and of the Alliance.  He always put his own feelings and needs as secondary to the mission.  When he had interrupted them he had told himself that there would be time again for Erin and Markus to discover each others' feelings, but now...with Markus captured...

He looked at Erin levelly.  She was thinking with her emotions; she never thought rationally like he did nor singularly like Markus did.  She had to be hurting from the interruption of their dinner date and so her thoughts were clouded.  “We know where Markus was taken,” he said quietly, hoping to get through to her to force her to think rationally.  She was now the default leader of ThunderMountain and the Alliance.  She needed to pull herself together.

“Uh...how?” Kurdy asked, confused.

“John said this Jacob was supposed to be in Baltimore.  It stands to reason that he'll go back to his base of power where he has the most influence,” Lee shrugged before looking up as another truck roared into the garage and stopped next to Kurdy's.

His eyes widened in surprise as he saw that it was Jeremiah, dressed in an ill-fitting uniform of the Army of Daniel and a bruised-looking Mister Smith next to him, a tired expression on his face.

“Jeremiah!” Erin called out a greeting as he turned off the engine and hopped out and headed towards them.

“We've got a problem-”

“Yeah, we know,” Lee ignored the flat look Jeremiah gave him.  “Markus was captured-”

“Gina says he was shot,” Jeremiah cut through him and Lee immediately shut up, feeling the blood drain out of his face, but refused to let any emotion show on his face.  He did not need to fall to pieces or show how afraid he was with those words.  Flashes of images ran through his mind as he remembered the last time Markus had been shot.  He had been so scared, so frightened  that he was going to lose the leader he had come to admire.  So scared that without Markus they had no chance against Valhalla Sector...no chance for a future of their own...

“How badly,” Erin apparently had a better grip on her emotions than he gave her credit as her voice was completely devoid of emotion.  Even Jeremiah looked at her in surprise before shaking his head.

“Gina says around the shoulder-upper arm area, left I think,” Jeremiah replied.

“That's good and bad,” Lee muttered mostly to himself before he looked up and saw Erin, Jeremiah, Kurdy, and Mister Smith's gazes on him.  “Good because if the bullet came out, then he would be bleeding a lot faster, bad because if the bullet did not come out, then it probably bounced off of a bone, which means a lot of shards and because its so close to his heart.”  He did not want to get into the details; it would bring up too many questions of his past and would make the others worry needlessly.

“We should mount a rescue first, then worry about Valhalla Sector,” Erin declared before Jeremiah stepped forward.

“Whoa, whoa, what's this about Valhalla?” he asked and Lee stepped in between him and Erin and shook his head.

“We don't even know-”

“Don't give me that need to know bullshit Lee,” Jeremiah jammed a finger in his chest and poked it hard, “you may be conditionally Head of Security, but just remember who vouched for you to Markus way back when.  What's this about Valhalla Sector?”

Lee glared at Jeremiah for a second before replying, “John figures that Jacob, our mysterious assailant, thinks that he was preparing for an assault on Valhalla.  I was going to call Devon and ask him if there was any movement from Baltimore recently.”

He was secretly happy to see some of the anger wiped from Jeremiah's face as he backed off with a quiet 'oh.'  He turned to Erin, “We can use Valhalla to get into Baltimore.  I didn't know most of what was going on with the Founders or whatever, but I think Devon may know more.  Plus he has access to most of the top secret files there so we can use it to get in and rescue Markus.”

“Fine,” she agreed, “I'll get you the phone.”

“I take it John's here?” Jeremiah asked her and she nodded.  “Good, I want to talk to him.”

“Jeremiah-” Lee opened his mouth to say that it wasn't a good idea, but shut it as soon as he saw the warning look on his thin face.

“Something about him doesn't add up, at least from what Gina told me.  I want to know why,” he replied before glancing at Kurdy, “you coming?”

“Might as well,” Kurdy sighed before the two of them headed into the Mountain, Smith trailing  behind them, looking out of place.

“Room 2,” Erin called after them and Jeremiah waved his thanks before the door closed behind them.

“You better be right about Valhalla Sector having files on Baltimore and all of this Daniel mess,” Erin looked at him closely before turning and heading into the Mountain, him following behind her.

He did not tell her that he hoped he was right about the files in Valhalla Sector, otherwise, they would have no chance of entering the stronghold.  Not even their allies in New York City would be able to help them in Baltimore.  But he hoped that perhaps Rachel and her resistance allies would be able to provide information for them and maybe put them in contact with the resistance leader in Baltimore.

Most of all, he hoped that he wouldn't be too late.

                                    *                      *                      *

Markus awakened to a fuzzily throbbing pain in upper left arm.  He opened his eyes, completely disoriented before he remembered what had happened and sat up quickly before splaying a hand out to quell the dizziness pounding in his head and squeezed his eyes shut to make the world stop spinning.

When he felt that the dizziness had passed, he slowly opened them again and gaped at his surroundings.  It was a beautifully furnished room and he was apparently lying on a very plush and opulent bed.  In fact, if he had to compare it to his quarters at the Mountain, this room looked like a hotel room of the Old World.  Everything looked clean and even the lights in the room weren't flickering with fluctuating power.

He glanced at his left arm and saw that it had been attended to and bandaged and noted that his left sleeve was gone from his arm in order for the gauze to wrap around his arm and shoulder properly.  Picking lightly at it, he was mildly surprised at the expert dressing.  He had thought only those in ThunderMountain knew how to dress a wound properly...he had not expected anyone in the Outside to know such things.  Apparently he was wrong...and it made him worried.

Though Daniel himself was fake, his methods and ability to conquer so easily was real...and the Western Alliance was barely even ready for such a thing.  He realized that Valhalla Sector's push towards them had prevented Daniel from making such aggressive moves, but with Valhalla out of the way, they were expanding and making sure that any type of leadership that would be a threat to them was eliminated or...converted.

Swinging his legs from the bed, he got up, and took in his surroundings.  He had no doubt that Jacob wanted him comfortable in this opulent prison.  He wanted him comfortable so that his...conversion would be easier so that he would be off guard.  He knew that there had to be cameras of sorts in this room, especially if the lights were working perfectly.  He glanced up at the vents to the room, wondering if a camera lurked in there.

He walked over the drawn curtains and peeked out of them.  It was dark, nighttime, he surmised as he stared out of the window.  He couldn't tell what city he was in, but he could make out the faint outlines of other buildings, unlit, and what looked like a harbor of sorts.  Was he in New York City, Daniel's stronghold?  He couldn't remember what the New York skyline looked like, especially with little to no lights in the area he was facing...

After a few minutes, he flicked the drape back to its original position and wandered over to the door and pulled on the handle.  As he suspected, it was locked from the outside.  He pressed his ear to the door, listening and after a few minutes gave up.  Curiosity got the better of him as he entered the bathroom and was very surprised to see that everything looked spotlessly clean.  Even with all of the cleaning they did at ThunderMountain, nothing compared to how white the tiles and sink were.  Just how much of this hotel was preserved in the aftermath of the Big Death?!  How did something like this stay so neat and preserved after fifteen years of Purgatory?

Pushing aside the slightly horrified feeling he had within him, he cleaned up as best as he could with one hand before heading out of the bathroom.  And promptly froze as he saw someone had slipped into the room while he had been cleaning himself up.

She had long blonde hair, the same straw color he recognized so many times.  Her face was exactly the way he remembered and her eyes, a sparkling blue.  She smiled slowly at him, the same exact smile that sent chills down his spine as he realized that she was wearing nothing but a negligee.  He couldn't help but stare at her, his body reacting to her near-nakedness, but his mind was racing with the possibilities, the impossibilities...until it finally hit him.

“You're not Erin,” he whispered hoarsely.

“No, I am not,” she replied and he flinched as if he had been slapped.  She even had the same exact voice.  This had to be...but it couldn't...Erin had said _she_ had went up to Seattle or at least to the remnants of Seattle...  Did that mean he was in Seattle?

“Lauren?” he tested the name of Erin's twin sister out.  He had never met Erin's sister, but had known her by reputation and Erin's occasional rant about her.

He thought he saw a flicker of something in her eyes before her smile dimmed and she shook her head.  “Guess again, handsome.”  She approached him and he found that he did not want to be near her, his feet propelling him backwards until he hit the door, wincing as his injured arm came in contact with the wood.

“Please,” he said, holding out a hand, trying to stop his own body from reacting to her presence.  Had it been that long since he had slept with someone that his own body was seemingly betraying him?  “Stay away...I don't...” he swallowed, “want...”

Markus froze as she pressed into him.  He could feel his heart beating rapidly, his breath shallow as he could feel the warmth of her skin through the negligee she wore.  He could feel the suppleness of her breasts, the way his own skin tingled as she ran a finger across his jaw…

“I know…” her breath teased him lightly in his ear as her other hand moved downwards, “you haven’t had a woman in such a long time…have you?”  She gently nipped his earlobe and he blinked rapidly, trying to find some kind of composure before it was too late.

It didn’t help that she looked like Erin…her voice almost the same as hers…not after that dinner, the romantic dance…the-

_Meaghan…_

Her name, whispered in his mind was like a welcomed bucket of cold water as he saw his lover’s face in his mind.  Her raven black hair, streaked with hints of white, but her face, ageless in his opinion.  Her strong-willed mind, fifteen years of captivity had not dulled it.  She had been so brave…braver than he could ever be.  He had never touched her, never held her, but she had not minded and even encouraged that he not stay celibate for her sake.  But after those times, he had felt guilty, for her sake and for the woman he had bedded that night.  He did not want one-night stands that meant nothing, but neither could he deny that he was human after all.

Markus wrenched his thoughts away from all thoughts of Meaghan and pushed away the woman that was not Erin and curled slightly in on himself, his breath coming in ragged as he fought for some control over his own body.  The passion that had ignited in him with such close proximity and contact with her slowly dissipated as he watched her with cool eyes as she picked herself up off the floor, her lips in a thin line.

She said nothing but stared at him with a simple look in her blue eyes.  “Noble,” she gave him the ghost of a smile before jerking her head once.

The door he had been leaning suddenly slammed open and Markus went flying into the corner wall.  He couldn’t contain a cry of pain as his body slammed into the wall followed by the exploding agony racing up and down his arm, through his back and towards his chest as the rebounding door slammed into his injury, jarring it.  He saw white spots appear before his vision and gasped out a breath before hands, many of them grabbed him roughly and hauled him up, but he was too stunned to fight them off.

All he could think about was the flaming waves of pain that threatened to overwhelm him.  He barely noticed the carpeted floor flashing by his vision as he was dragged along, nor did he notice the wrenching grip one of his captors had on his injured arm.  His nostrils flared as he tried to control the pain and his breathing and when finally he was aware enough of his surroundings he saw an open door in front of him, darkness beyond the door.

“W-Where…” he managed to get out before a slight pressure on his injured arm sent another wave of agony coursing through him and he hissed through clenched teeth.

They entered the darkened room and Markus could not see a single thing.  The room had to be big as he could feel his captors still drag him around before just as suddenly they let him go and he dropped to the ground.

He managed to catch most of his fall on his right side before rolling slightly over for any signs of his captors, but could not see anything.  Bringing a hand up to what he thought was the front of his face; he squinted, trying to see through the blackness.  He couldn’t even see his hand.  Had he been blinded somehow?  But…that was impossible…he had seen light, disorienting yes, but light nonetheless.

It had to be a sensory deprivation room, he thought as he felt the cold concrete ground.  But as far as he read from books and from the rooms he had discovered in some of the unused sections of ThunderMountain, sensory deprivation rooms weren’t as big as the one he had been tossed into.

He scooted forward slowly, hoping to find a wall…but after a few minutes, realized that in fact, this room was massive, or at least that was what his mind concluded.  He knew that rooms like these were designed to disorient the brain and slowly break down resistance.

“Markus Alexander,” a booming voice suddenly cut through the stillness, making him jerk with shock as he looked upwards and around.  The voice didn’t come from above, it came from all around him.  But he recognized it…

“Jacob,” he was shocked to find his voice parched and hoarse and swallowed some meager spit down his throat to at least provide moisture.  “Hell of a place you got here.”  The eerie memories of his captivity at Valhalla Sector were still fresh in his mind even though it had been more than a few months since the place fell.  He was somewhat grateful that he and Erin were released without too much harm done, but he knew that here, he would probably suffer like Jeremiah did under General Waverly’s care.

Here, Jacob had it in for him…here he was the main prisoner…

“Do you wish to see the truth?” Jacob’s voice boomed around him.

“That you’ll use fear to break me?  Fear to crush your opposition instead of using hope to help them?” he gave a bitter bark of laughter, “kill me now, because you won’t get it.  You’re just like those bastards at Valhalla Sector.  You want to control what you can’t control…”

“And what is that?” Jacob replied pleasantly.

“Human nature,” Markus replied, “You can’t control human nature.”

“Well, that makes two of us, I suppose,” Markus could almost see the smile on the man’s face, “you’re trying to control human nature too.”

“I’m not,” Markus shook his head, “I just presented my idea to everyone and it is up to them if they want to embrace it or not.  That’s human nature…”

“Then you and I are alike,” Jacob said and Markus froze, realizing that he had fallen neatly into the word trap the man had set up.  God was he already losing it in the darkness for such a short time?  He felt a bit dizzy as he moved his left shoulder a bit.  Did he get drugged in the time that they had bandanged up his wound?

“I'll never be like you,” he shot back, knowing that they were futile words, but it still felt good to say them.

“I believe human nature needs to be controlled, to have guidance, and I believe, Markus you will soon see that.  But now...for now, think about your sins and perhaps, you will repent and learn the truth,” the distinct click of the speaker turning off told him that Jacob was done with him for now.

Markus curled into himself, trying to preserve the warmth in himself.  He had a feeling that he was going to be in this new cell for a while...

                                    *                      *                      *

Jeremiah resisted the urge to slam John's head into the table once more.  The man was already tottering on the edges of unconsciousness and he did not want the job of trying to revive him again.  The first time had already been long enough, with what he thought was precious time wasted, so he clenched and unclenched his fist in an effort to suppress that urge.

Kurdy, however, shook his head and rolled his eyes at him.  “Come on man,” he pushed himself off of the wall and sat down in the seat across from John, “give us something.  We know you aren't completely innocent.  You knew Jacob was there.  You said that he was supposed to be in Baltimore.  Is that where he took Markus?  Does he plan to use the Army of Daniel to launch an attack on Millhaven and Four Roads?  What else are you guys hiding?”

Jeremiah had to admit, the time away from partnering with Kurdy had brought out a much stronger, more leader-like side to his good friend.  He was still sad that their partnership was over, but at least Kurdy looked like he was moving on and embracing the Mountain as his home...

“I swear,” John looked up at them, nursing his slightly bloodied and bruised nose with a tissue they had given to him an hour earlier.  “I don't know...all right?  I wanted...to save Gina...wanted to-”

“Why would a little shit like you who just wanted to kill us just over thirty-six hours ago want to save someone like Gina?” Jeremiah pounced on that slip and leaned forward, hands pressed against the table top as he glared at John.

“When someone points a gun in your face and tells you to kiss his ass there's nothing much you can do, is there?!” John looked at him square in the eye before shaking his head, “I told you...I...  Oh God...Sims was right...and wrong...and...”

Jeremiah would have thought that Sims' former lieutenant was losing it as he started to laugh before looking at them, tears streaming down his face.  He backed away slowly just as Kurdy was doing the same.

“The fuck's wrong with him?” Kurdy muttered before John shook his head and buried his face in his hands.

“Do you know how hard it is to change something you believe in?” John looked up at them, a slight edge of hysteria in his voice and Jeremiah backed up a bit more.  This was not the man that had pointed a gun at him after he had thrown Sims off of the cliff.  Was this the face of a man who's faith had been shattered so badly?  And if so...how many more like them were there?

“No...” he glanced at Kurdy and then towards the windows where he knew Smith was watching.  However, there was no click of the room's speakers coming on, telling him that Smith was going to say anything.

“Jacob...” John sighed and shook his head, “I am so going to hang for this...no, I'm gonna get shot or put in the box....”  He looked at all of them, “Jacob and General Sims did not see eye to eye.  Sims is a good man and I should have killed you if you had not revealed to us the Founders' deception.”

“Wow,” Jeremiah was completely unimpressed, “I've been spared.  Whoop-de-fucking-doo.”

“Daniel controls his cities through his lieutenants.  Jacob was sent to the furthest city in our current control because he cannot follow orders like a good soldier.  He can't bring himself to fully idealize Daniel and all that we stand for,” John looked down at the table.

Jeremiah wanted to yell at John to say that Daniel was a fake, that his ideals were nothing more than bullshit.  That they were nothing more than latter day bullies who stomped all over the place on the poor and corrupted innocent people, people like Libby...  But he restrained himself and shot a look to Kurdy who also looked like he wanted to speak but was holding his tongue.

“I saved Gina because even I don't think you guys deserve to have Jacob's wrath upon you.  I wanted at least someone to walk away with what they had witnessed, the true testament of a believer,” John looked at them, “I'm sorry about your friend Markus.  But I hope that in time he'll be able to see the truth that Jacob will show him.”

“Markus would sooner bite his own tongue than follow Daniel, or Jacob, or whoever's leading your Goddammed Army now.  Don't forget, you're a prisoner here,” Kurdy snapped at him, “we can keep you here as long as we like.”

“Jacob knew what would happen to me when he said I could take Gina out,” John looked at him levelly and Jeremiah saw a small light of fanatical hope.  Did this man really believed that Jacob was going to save him?  Did he actually believe that he was going to let them walk away with Markus and not have anything happen to him.

“Well I'll be,” Kurdy suddenly sat back in his chair with a quiet thump and Jeremiah looked at him, confused.

“What?”

“You really do think that you're that high up on the metaphorical food chain, don't you?”

“I was working for Jacob.  And I was working for General Sims.  He had told me that Daniel was not real and that the Founder lied the night before we were going to attack.  A power vacuum had started and I knew that Jacob would move, having likely found out the same time the General did.  I was angry that you killed him, Jeremiah.  But-”

“-not angry enough to kill me,” Jeremiah stared at John, finally seeing him a whole new different light.  He wasn't a man who had lost faith.  He was a man who had gained the faith of power and embraced it wholeheartedly.  “You wanted the others in the Army of Daniel to find out.  You wanted this war to be averted...”

The door to the interrogation room suddenly opened and Erin, Lee, and Smith stood by it.  “You wanted Markus out there so he could be kidnapped and captured...” Erin looked astonished before her face closed up in anger.

“That's why there were saboteurs in the Mountain.  They wanted us all off guard, all thinking one way while they were changing the rules to the game,” Lee looked troubled, thinking mostly to himself.

“Yes,” John nodded but looked remorseful, “but I didn't want your leader to be shot.  I didn't know that Jacob was going to shoot him as an example.  I didn't know he was going to kill the three others either.  He told me-”

“A little late for that, don't you think?” Kurdy interjected before standing up, shaking his head, “that's some fucked up plan you had there.  However, it doesn't tell us where he is...”

“But he already did,” Jeremiah shot him a predatory smile, hoping that the others would stay quiet as he circled around the man's seat, “said it was in the southern cities of where Daniel controls.”

“Oh yeah...” Kurdy got his message loud and clear, “what did your father say?  Something about D.C. in ruins?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Jeremiah shrugged nonchalantly, “I guess that leaves Baltimore.  Since Dad would know whether any cities like Atlanta or even Nashville make a peep and we've got our allies up in Minnesota ready to warn us...”

“No one's father's alive.  You're bluffing,” John sneered and Jeremiah shrugged.

“Well, that Founder you introduced me to was that old...how come there can't be anyone in between our age and his age that survived the Big D?”

“We've got bases farther south than that!” John half-shouted before Jeremiah got up and headed out of the room, knowing that the man had inadvertantly confirmed where Jacob's power base was and where they had probably taken Markus.  The door closed behind him after a few seconds and all five of them huddled together.

“So it is Baltimore,” Erin looked grim, “I'll get a chopper ready and we'll-”

“No,” Jeremiah held up a hand, “Kurdy, Smith, and I will go.  We've got some experience with this.  Plus you're the de-facto leader of the Western Alliance.  Someone's got to reassure the people here.”

Erin narrowed her eyes, “You're not the one giving orders around here.”

Jeremiah immediately knew that he had overstepped his bounds.  He did not want to piss of Erin and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender and peace.  “I know, I know...all I'm suggesting is that you let the grunts do some of the work...”

“All right, but I want you guys in constant communication with Devon,” Erin's look told him that she would want a more private word with him before he left and he nodded.

“Gotcha...”

“So what do we do about the Army in Four Roads?” Kurdy asked.

“You've also got a platoon stationed somewhere in the mountains here,” Jeremiah had almost forgot about the map and brought it out of his coat pocket.  He opened it up and pointed to a symbol next to ThunderMountain.  “Found this in Sims' tent...”

“The hell were you doing up there?” Kurdy looked shocked, “I thought you were with Ethan's unit...”

“Markus wanted me to look around, all right?” Jeremiah did not want to explain himself, least of all in front of Lee.  He still did not trust the man fully, even though he had vouched for him to Markus.  “Smith,” he gestured to the mostly silent man who gave him a thin smile, “helped me...I found this...”

“This is a map of every single placement of Armies or forces in the United States...and all of the bases they control.  Jeremiah,” Erin looked at him, both impressed and aghast, “we can use this to help our convoys avoid the traps they've set up.”

“Yeah...I guess,” he didn't want to suggest that they could also use it to smash the Army of Daniel as he knew that was not what the New America Alliance, the Western Alliance stood for.  However, he caught Lee staring at the map more intently than the others and had a feeling that Lee wanted to use it for military purposes, but did not say anything...

Maybe he would bring it up to Erin before he left.

“So anything good on your end?” Kurdy interrupted everyone's gazes on the map and Erin nodded, folding the map back up and putting it securely under her arm.

“Yeah, Devon's got news and it does match what we just found out from John.  He says that there's been recent activity around the D.C.-Baltimore area, at least from the people who've passed by Valhalla say.  They said the saw a couple of the big helicopters fly by, more than the usual one with escort,” Erin replied as they headed away from the interrogation room and towards the main areas of ThunderMountain once more.

“It'll be at least a few hours before we can get a chopper ready, so get yourselves ready,” Lee said, his tone clearly a dismissal and while Jeremiah wanted to tell the man to piss off, he also knew that it was quite a valid point.  He glanced at Kurdy and Smith and saw the two of them shrug before peeling away from them to their own devices and Jeremiah caught Erin's eye and nodded once, telling her that he would stop by later.

He pointedly ignored Lee and brushed past him, purposefully headed to the cafeteria.  Somehow, he had a feeling that he wasn't going to get any good food in a long while...

                                    *                      *                      *

 The one-hundred and tenth time his stomach rumbled its hunger was the time that Markus realized that all of his sixteen years in the Mountain had pampered him to the comforts of having three square meals a day, or two when he had the time.  He knew that this was part of the torture Jacob wanted to inflict upon him, to make him vulnerable, to make him weakened.  He had no doubt that the woman who looked so uncannily like Erin was part of that torture too, a more sexualized one and so was him waking up in such plush comforts.

They wanted him unbalanced, have everything they thought he held dear ripped away from him.  But what did they know?  He sighed softly, swallowing again to try to at least extract some sort of moisture from his own spittle.  He was very thirsty, the room, not a sensory deprivation one as he had first thought, but at least a very cavernous and large cold one, had sucked the moisture very quickly from him.

How many days was it, that man could survive without water or food?  With the inky darkness, he couldn't even tell how much time had passed since he had been left in here, with only the comforts of his scraping bare feet along the concrete floor, his own breaths echoing loudly in his own ears.  He knew he had somehow fallen asleep because when he had awakened with chills all over his body and bare arm, he had tried to curl tighter within himself to conserve whatever warmth he had left, but it wasn't enough and he now shivered.

He knew the most important thing was to make sure his bared arm was warm enough, but that meant turning to the other side and pressing down upon his gunshot wound and it still hurt.  Whatever painkillers they had given him was long gone and the throbbing pain from his arm pulsed with every beat of his heart.  He could curl his arm across his chest to at least try, because it hurt too much to stretch the torn muscles there.

There in of itself was a very clever move in Jacob's part.  He knew where to shoot him to maximize the pain and discomfort.  Knew where to shoot him so that he couldn't do a damn thing about it when they dumped him in this hell hole.  “Well played,” he whispered, barely feeling his own vocal chords murmur the words.

He had read accounts, those from the Mountain computers he had hacked into and from the books left there, of people slowly going mad from sensory deprivation or similar aspects and knew that given enough time he too would start to doubt himself and doubt what was going on.  He knew he couldn't allow that and so had started on little formulas in his mind, just simple math to keep himself from feeling the cold, feeling the concrete ground, feeling the throbbing pain.

He was currently reviewing the physics formulas he had learned a couple of years before the Big Death had arrived.  However, he was having trouble keeping the formula inside his head as his thoughts wandered to the inky blackness of the room.

Black...like Meaghan's hair, except hers had little streaks of white.  When they had  first started to appear, he had seen how dismayed she was about them and they had spent a couple of hours joking about how old she was and how everyone would have to start calling her a grandmother...

He had been twenty then...and it was the first time that she had suggested that he find himself another woman to care for to leave her to die in her containment cell.  He had remembered her desperation, her tears, her fury.  She had pounded the glass, had demanded to be let out so she could kill herself before she had said that she was going to take the scissors that he had given to her to cut her own hair and kill herself.

He had been so worried for her that he had stayed by her side for the next two days, trying not to fall asleep, but failing miserably at it.  It was only when he had woken up after nearly thirty-six hours of his vigil to find her staring at him, love and compassion in her eyes and had gently suggested he return up to the habitable parts of the Mountain before anyone noticed he was missing.

She had promised him then that she would never kill herself anymore...and he had believed her until that fateful day months ago when she had jumped off the cliff to her death.

The next week he had visited her she had suggested that she wouldn't mind if he had found someone to unload his frustration on.  He had been completely confused and clueless to what she meant before she laughed.  It had been a surprise to see her laugh so gaily, without reserve before he finally realized what she meant and he had blushed deeply.

He had told her that he would never use anyone like that and that he pledged himself to her.  He remembered her faint blush at his vow, but had told him that she knew that most young men his age would change their minds, if boys younger than he was would do it at a drop of the hat.  It made him realize how much more older and wiser she was...and that she had only been twenty-eight when she was first brought to ThunderMountain.

He had thought then that he would be able to keep his pledge, after all, he was constantly busy with running the Mountain, dealing with the Council, and making sure that anyone from the Outside was vetted and trusted.  The first time...he had been caught unawares, had not realized how many of the women at the Mountain had admired him, had little crushes on him.  He was aware of it on some level, but he had ignored most of it, constantly being pleasant and firm when he needed things done.

Sarah...  She had been his first...

The day after, he had rushed to Meaghan, had confessed to her what he had done and the only thing she did was smile and said that she did not mind.  Her next words had floored him.  She had said that she knew she was being selfish for keeping him close to her, even though they could never touch.  She had said that she was afraid of what would happen if he had suddenly decided to leave her alone in her containment cell if some other woman came up to him and wanted to start a relationship with him.  She had said that she was petty and realized the error of her ways when she had first suggested that he find a woman to sleep with and he had vowed to always stay celibate to her.

She had told him that he need not sacrifice his own needs or wants just for her sake.  That she was content with whatever time they had together because it was enough.  She was the one that told him about the five minutes of time that was enough for eternity...

Now...he wished he had five more minutes with her in this inky darkness...because it would have been enough.  He wanted her strength to hold off the torture he knew was coming...

Markus rolled gently onto his back, making sure to slowly apply pressure to the back of his wound and stared up into the darkness.  He thought he could almost see her, her warm smile, her ageless face...like an angel smiling down upon him, watching over him.

He closed his eyes and fell into an uneasy sleep once more...

                                    *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            The movie quote is from _A Christmas Story_ which is a good movie, but TNT definitely ruins the moment by running it all day long on Christmas.  I have to confess, I have an inability to write seduction so that Markus part may have been a bit awkward.  Also, Sarah is the woman that appeared in the pilot episode of the series, she’s the new Outsider orientation leader.  Her actress is none other than Tricia Helfer, who plays Six on the re-imaged _Battlestar Galactica_.


	3. Part 3: Temptation

Jeremiah: Echoes and Shadows

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Disclaimer:**

_Jeremiah_ and its characters are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Sam Egan, Luke Perry, MGM/UA, and Showtime. This story is for amusement only and I didn’t get any money for it. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

**Timeframe:** Immediately after “ _Interregnum – Part 2_ ”

 

**Story:**

_Part 3 - Temptation_

 

The cold splash of water across his face and body jolted Markus awake and he slammed his injured shoulder into the concrete, gasping in pain before rolling over, trying to hug his injured arm closer to his body.  He half sat up; disoriented until he realized that it wasn't him, it was the room he was in, still pitch black.

“Good morning Markus,” Jacob's voice boomed around him and still a bit disoriented, he flinched at the sound before looking around, trying to at least see who had thrown water upon him.

However his sight still eluded him and he concluded that whoever had done it must have been wearing some kind of night vision goggles.  However, the contradicting thought occurred that night vision goggles weren't foolproof.  They needed some kind of ambient light in order to work...which mean perhaps they had gotten heat-detecting goggles to work?  The technology as far as he knew was still relatively new when the Big Death swept throughout the world.  The only country he knew that had been improving on such technology besides the United States and its allies in the European countries was Japan.

Another cold splash of water broke his thoughts and he raised his right arm slightly.  “I'm up, I'm up!” he muttered none too loudly, pulling himself up to a sitting position even though he could not see a thing.

“Ah, I was beginning to wonder if you had lost all of your manners during the night here,” Jacob's voice had a pleasant tone to it, but Markus knew better than to believe he was anything but pleasant.

“For all I know it could be night instead of morning,” he shot back.  He really did not know how long he had slept that time, buffered by dreams of Meaghan, but he knew that it had at least comforted him.

“Nonsense,” Jacob replied, “its morning.  You must be having trouble seeing the sun...here, let me help you.”

Blinding spotlights suddenly flicked on in front of him and he immediately squeezed his eyes shut, his hands reaching out to block the painful and sudden glare.  His left arm protested his movement and he gritted his teeth as he hissed in pain.  Just as suddenly the light disappeared, but the damage had been done already.

His vision was blinded with color spots that weren't fading quickly and he heard the scrabble of feet before he was wrenched up from the floor and he gave a yelp of pain as someone touched his shoulder wound before they dragged him across the floor.  A few seconds later, the throbbing pain in his arm became white hot before the clicking of cool metal across his wrists made him aware that he was being strapped to something before he was released and he nearly fell to the ground from the sudden lack of support.

He only caught himself one knee, wrenching his own arm before he tried to hug it closer to him, but only succeeded in bring it halfway.

“We've put you in loose restraints for now,” Jacob's voice still bounced all over the room; “you have some freedom of movement, but as you can see, not enough.  My advisors suggested I strap you to our rack, but I do not want to see you physically broken, just...mentally enough so you realize the truth.”

“You'll have to do better than that,” Markus coughed, trying to adjust his left arm to the least painful position in his loose restraints.  He was glad that he was still able to touch the ground; otherwise, he knew that the damage to his arms would be far greater.  But even so...

“We shall see,” Jacob sounded unconcerned, “there is all the time in the world.”   The click of the speaker turning off told him that he was in for another long haul of silence, though this time there was no rest or comfort.  Markus sighed softly, setting his mind back to occupying himself with string theory, a relatively new theory that had sprung up before the Big Death, instead of any thoughts of his friends rescuing him.

                                    *                      *                      *

The flight to Valhalla had one stopover for refueling purposes, but otherwise it was at least five hours later that they had arrived at the base.  Jeremiah had remembered that their original flight from Valhalla was nonstop and realized that while ThunderMountain had a lot of helicopters, they were older models and so did not have that big of a gas tank to go the distance between the two bases.

His breath hitched as he saw his father standing on the helipad with a couple of ThunderMountain personnel that were permanently stationed there to help him, both armed with rifles.  He had not spoken to his father ever since Libby's death and wondered if he knew...

“Good to see you Devon,” Kurdy called as the three of them hurried away from the helicopter and it rose back into the air, flying back to Thunder Mountain.

“Kurdy, Smith,” his father nodded his greetings and shook hands with them before turning to Jeremiah and he saw the love he had for him appear on his face.  “Jeremiah,” he nodded once before approaching him and enfolding him in a tight hug.

“Dad,” Jeremiah was still faintly embarrassed to find his own voice choking up before they released each other and he stared at him, a sudden pang of sorrow welling up in him.  He could hear Libby's phantom voice asking whether or not she would now get a hug like his father did...

“I heard...”

“Don't,” Jeremiah hastily banished the thought of Libby out of his mind and shook his head, “I'm fine...”

“I'm sorry Jeremiah,” his father said, squeezing his arms tightly in a gesture of comfort before clearing his throat and gesturing to the rest of them to follow him inside.  As they headed in, he studiously avoided any contact with Smith and smiled faintly as he saw Kurdy step in between him and Smith to create some kind of buffer.  Apparently his father did not know that Smith had killed Libby judging by his expression and he wondered if he should tell him.

He just as quickly banished that thought...there was no need to spread the blame around.  The main thing that his father needed to know that Valhalla was being watched closely by Daniel's forces and they needed to be aware of a potential attack in the near future.  “Dad,” he had not realized how narrow most of the corridors were in Valhalla until he was squeezing by people pressed up against walls to let them pass.

“I immediately sent out a team to New York to see if they could contact Rachel and find out who the leader of the Resistance is in Baltimore after Lee called.  They're due to check in, in about twenty minutes so your timing is good,” his father called back to them as they made their way to the central command center of the base.

Jeremiah nodded absently as he tried not to shudder from the memories he had of this place.  He only knew the path from his cell to the President's office, but even that was a fuzzy memory due to the torture Waverly had put him under.  He could barely remember anything that happened after he had woken up under Libby's care-

_Don't go there_ , he forced himself to stop thinking of anything related to Libby and instead shook his head once, to try to rid himself of the memories.  “Hey Dad, one of the leaders of the Army we questioned said that Jacob may be planning to attack and take over Valhalla.”

“We know, we've been monitoring their activities in the past few weeks,” his father replied as they entered the control room, a rather spacious area, and he went over to one of the computers and tapped a few keys.

Jeremiah absently waved greetings to some of the ex-ThunderMountain personnel who were stationed there before staring at what his father had brought up on the monitor.

“Markus told me while I was at the Mountain that he was able to see every single military base across the continental United States if they were active or not.  As you all know, we've been spending most of our time setting Valhalla up a secondary base of sorts to ThunderMountain and also as an information hub.  We've also begun to retake some of those military bases in-between here and ThunderMountain.  However, what we have that ThunderMountain does not have is a grid of the Eastern continental United States.

“And we have control of some of the SACLANT satellites transferred over from Norfolk,” Devon said and Jeremiah blinked, confused.

“The what?” Kurdy beat him to his question.

“Supreme Allied Commander Atlantic for NATO” Smith replied, bringing all of their gazes to him and he shrugged.

Jeremiah supposed that God probably told him, but he noted Kurdy staring at his partner with a far more inquisitive look.  Maybe he would ask Kurdy what was going on afterwards, after Kurdy had talked to Smith of course.

“Yes,” his father did not look at all spooked by the fact that Smith had known what the acronym had stood for, “with those satellites we are able to see any light bulb or campfire that is lit up.”

“Pretty Christmas tree,” Jeremiah gave a wiry grin to his father who chuckled.

“I was going to say like your Lite Brite set, but a Christmas tree works,” he replied, “so we have been noticing a slight increase in lights near Valhalla, but I don't think anything big is happening at the moment.  We've made contact with the towns near Valhalla to warn us of any danger and the people there are actually quite grateful for the support.  I didn't realize how badly we've been treating them after fifteen years of living down in this hell hole so this past year we've been making up for it.”

“What did you promise them?” Jeremiah knew that there had to be something in it for the towns in order to keep their eyes on Daniel.

“Valhalla's still low on personnel so we have room if they need to evacuate here in case something happens,” Devon shrugged, “I haven't told Markus this because I know he thinks they may be a security risk...”

“But the people would be grateful,” Jeremiah finished for his father, “yeah...I feel the same way too.  But just be careful, all right?”  He left the unmentioned 'anyone can be a spy' in the air and his father nodded.

“I will, but hopefully it won't come to that,” he gave them a faint smile before tapping on another part of the monitor, bringing up what looked like the remnants of the Maryland coast.  “Here's Baltimore,” he zoomed in and Jeremiah noted that there just a small patch of lights, much like what they had seen in New York City.

“A couple of hours after Lee had called; we noticed at least two Blackhawks and an Apache flying into Baltimore.  However, we also noticed several other helos flying into New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Pittsburgh.  You sure that Markus is in Baltimore?”

“Our guy didn’t exactly say it, but we’re pretty sure,” Kurdy gave a small shrug, “what kind of birds did you get for the other cities?”

“Three Blackhawks to New York, one to Boston, two to Philly, and four to Pittsburgh,” Devon replied, “The only ones with Apaches and a few Hueys are New York and Boston.”

“No, John said that Jacob’s base was Baltimore,” Jeremiah pointed at the map before he noticed that his father had stiffened at Jacob’s name.  “What?”

“Jacob?” his father looked at him and he nodded.

“Yeah, you recognize that name?” he asked, worried.  “I thought Lee mentioned it to you.”

“He didn’t say, just said that the Army of Daniel had kidnapped Markus to take him to Baltimore,” Devon shook his head, “If this is the Jacob of Baltimore we’re talking about then all three of you have to very careful.”

“Why?  What’s going on?” if there was one thing in the world that Jeremiah hated, it was surprises.  He had always hated them ever since he could remember.  It was one of the reasons why his father had called him such serious and a quiet little boy.

His father gave each of them a long look before sighing and gesturing for them to take a seat.  They did so without much protest, Kurdy having to roll one from one of the controller stations that was empty.  “I was going to tell Markus and let him disseminate the information amongst the Western Alliance members as he saw fit, but with all that’s been going on with Daniel and you guys preparing for war…it flew out of my mind,” he shook his head, “You know how Valhalla covertly sponsored the rise and creation of Daniel, right?”

Jeremiah nodded, wondering if this had anything to do with Dr. Monash.  “Monash told us and we sort of found out most of it when Rachel…” he trailed off, still in disbelief over his father’s association with Monash.

“When the locks opened six months after the Big Death had passed, the first thing we did was sent out scout teams and brought back a few survivors, most of them little children.  Some, like Lee, we trained until they were about a certain age, young teens mostly, before we sent them out again to be our scouts, Valhalla’s eyes and ears.  Some of the others, we only sent out on occasion.”

Jeremiah knew that his father was talking about Libby, but didn’t mention her name and for that he was grateful to him.

“There were a few kids that we took in and sent up to Fred, Dr. Monash, for evaluation.  He…deemed them psychologically fit for the experiments they were having in New York with Daniel.  I don’t know much about the human psyche, but I do know that Ezekiel had been chosen to be sent up there.  I…couldn’t let them and had him escape from Valhalla on the pretense of finding you and your brother Jeremiah,” his father looked at him, eyes full of sorrow and Jeremiah closed his eyes and nodded.

“I understand,” he whispered quietly, placing a gentle hand on his father’s shoulder.  “Thanks…”

“Fred wasn’t too happy about what had happened, because he thought Ezekiel would be the perfect fit.  After Ezekiel, he focused his attention on a young boy, only about ten or something like that.  The only thing he had told us was that his name was Jacob Sheridan and he was looking for his twin brother.  Apparently they had been separated during panic in D.C. and he had been picked up by a scout team near Front Royal.

“So he began to put all of his hopes on Jacob and sent him up to New York to be indoctrinated as one of Daniel’s devout followers.  Valhalla was very careful with all of the devout followers they had created and when their…training…had been completed, they were sent to the major cities along the Eastern Seaboard to help Daniel create a society,” his father looked distant, far away, lost in his memories.

“So, how come we’ve never heard of Daniel’s influence in the South?  All we’ve been hearing is Daniel in the East, the North-East…” Kurdy asked, curious.

“Valhalla was cautious, I know Jeremiah, I know, ironic isn’t it?” Devon chuckled bitterly, “but they did try to take over the South, starting with Atlanta.  But do you guys know of a guy named David-“

“Who lead his people out of the fires that raged across the city for seventeen days after the Death,” Smith interrupted quietly and Jeremiah looked back and forth between him and Kurdy who nodded in comprehension.

“Who?” he felt so out of the loop and a bit jealous that his good friend was hanging so much around Smith.

“He died leading his people out, but his sister, Valerie, took up his position and apparently she rules the Southern Cities, as Valhalla calls it.  So far, her reach extends to what they had thought was Dallas and Houston all the way to Tampa,” Devon ran a hand through his thinning hair, “the first time Valhalla tried to introduce Daniel or even military forces in Atlanta they came back with only one survivor, dragging a net full of the heads of the representatives they sent out.”

Jeremiah balked at the words.  Decapitation?!  He had seen some nasty fucked up shit during his fifteen-year trek, but mass decapitation?  That was horrifying.  Even Kurdy and Smith looked repulsed at his words.

“As far as I know there are still some minor elements of Valhalla down South, but I’ve never bothered with them before.  Valhalla’s made that place off limits for now…and by then I think they were getting wind of ThunderMountain and their activities.”

“So what’s this got to do with Jacob?  If he even is the Jacob Valhalla sent out?” Jeremiah knew that talking about the South was getting off topic.

“Even as a little boy, he was very charismatic, got what he always wanted, what he needed.  He was a teacher’s pet you can say,” Devon sighed and looked every bit his age, “and with General Waverly’s help, he became ruthless.  Even I think they were afraid of Jacob in the end because when the Founders, that were what they called themselves, finally established that Daniel was succeeding in New York, General Waverly and the current President at that time, Emerson’s predecessor Hayes, ordered them to tell Jacob to go to Baltimore and establish his base there.”

“They wanted to keep an eye on him,” Kurdy murmured quietly, sitting back in his chair.

Devon nodded, “They felt he was getting a little to ambitious, and only his devotion to Daniel and his goals was preventing him from potentially taking over Valhalla or marching on it.”

“But he knows it’s a fake,” Jeremiah stated, “which means, he may move against Valhalla soon.”

“Yes, but I think he knows of the downfall of the regime here, which is good and bad.  He may want to strike and take over Valhalla since we do have access to the nuclear codes here, but he may not do it right away,” his father cautioned.

“Why?” Smith spoke up, having been silent for most of their conversation.

“Well,” Devon sucked in a breath through his teeth and looked chagrined, “Markus, for one…and….”

“Since Markus was kidnapped by him, he’s currently occupied,” Jeremiah finished for him, looking grim, “and when we do rescue him, he may end up turning his attention onto you…and since you have that open door policy…”

“It’s a fucking avalanche,” Kurdy shook his head slowly, “man…”

“I’m not dissuading you from rescuing Markus, hell, the guy is our next President if he wants the job; he’s doing something for the people, not for himself.  But while you guys are gone, I’ll need to talk to Erin and the others and maybe ask if they could send some of the volunteer army out this way…insurance purposes…”

“That may not be easy, Devon,” Kurdy looked uncomfortable, “the Army of Daniel’s still sitting out by Four Roads-Millhaven.  We’re already thin enough as it is…”

“I know, I know…” his father clenched a fist, “we can always close our doors and lock them tight so no one can get in.”

“But it only takes one,” Jeremiah fully understood the dilemma his father was stuck with.  He knew that he could never ask to take troops away from the front lines to protect his own place, nor would he renege on a promise made, except for the one time when his mother and father had said that they were going to be back in less than an hour.

“And Jacob has that gift to get through to that one person.  General Waverly…he specialized in psychological manipulation,” Devon continued and Jeremiah shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling his muscles twitch in phantom reminder of the electro-shock torture he was put through.

“Tell me about it,” he muttered none too loudly.

“He trained Jacob and the man knows how to be the most persuasive speaker Daniel has.  We found out that when he found his twin brother, he even taught him to be one of Daniel’s main voices and Jacob’s right hand.”

“Vincent,” Smith suddenly blinked in comprehension and all three of them stared at him.

“Who?” this time Jeremiah didn’t feel left out.

“He was the man who drove in that sports car to the Mountain?  The one who Hernandez said everyone at the meeting should listen to?  That was Vincent.”

“That handsome dude who got like half of the women there drooling before Theo put their tongues back into their mouths?” Kurdy asked and Smith nodded, “damn.”

Jeremiah remembered the man and thought that he was a very charismatic speaker, but had immediately been put in his place by Theo and her speech to the others of the Alliance.  Vincent had not looked too happy, but his face had shown an unmistakable air of gracious defeat before he had stepped to the side to have a few words with Markus.  To think that the man was this Jacob’s own twin brother…and that Jacob had taught him to speak with a gilded tongue.

“Devon, we’ve got Ilana on the line,” one of the techs suddenly spoke up a few stations below them and Devon spun around in his seat and plugged in his own headset.

“Devon, go,” he said before jotting down a few notes.  After a few more seconds, he nodded once, “check back with me in twenty-four hours.  Otherwise, keep a low profile and wait for orders.”  He waited one more second before taking off the headset and stood up, gesturing for them to come with him.

“Well?” Jeremiah couldn’t stand the silence.

“The leader’s name is Alec Cole.  Ilana and her partner Rania already told me that Rachel has sent someone down to preempt him on your arrival.  They said that there are already rumors that Jacob’s captured someone big from the Mountain, but they don’t know who.  I didn’t tell Ilana or Rania about Markus, because that would lead to unnecessary panic and the Alliance would be broken even before the foundations have been laid,” he lead them down a few levels to where the garage was and plucked one of the keys to one of several sports vehicles that was distinctly black, like the color of Daniel’s henchmen.

“Whoa…I didn’t want to believe that Valhalla was sponsoring Daniel, but geez,” Jeremiah breathed as he popped the trunk open of the mustang and dumped his small travel bag inside along with Kurdy’s and Smith’s.

“Except these are specially reinforced, bullet proof glass, metal, the works.  They’re the Presidents’ fleet of vehicles, well, even before the Big Death.  When it happened, Valhalla tried to salvage as much as they could when they realized the whole world’s gone to shit,” his father handed him the keys, “Ilana says to meet Alec by the old aquarium and he’ll lead you in.  Your code reply is ‘I want to learn more about Sheridan.’”

“Shouldn’t it be ‘I want to learn more about Jacob?’” he shot back as he got into the car along with Kurdy and Smith and started up the engine.

“Not many people know Jacob has a last name…they think he’s from the Outside, not of the Old World,” his father gave him a grim smile before opening the reinforced steel garage doors, “be careful out there Jeremiah.  I won’t be able to help you if you get in trouble…”

“I know,” he knew his father wanted to say more but instead reached out and grabbed his hand tightly to convey his appreciation.  “We’ll be back, and with Markus too.”

With that, he put the car into gear and sped out of the parking lot, unable to keep the grin off of his face as he felt the smooth acceleration of the car.  He had to admit, this was much better than driving his truck around…  But his thoughts turned darker and killed his enthusiasm of his smile as Kurdy dug around the side pocket and pulled out a map of Maryland and Baltimore.

“All right…I think it’ll be about two hours, maybe less, before we get there.  We should have a plan by then,” Kurdy said, flexing the map with a snap of his wrists.

“Right,” Jeremiah replied, settling his eyes on the road.  _Hang on Markus, we’re coming…_

                                    *                      *                      *

Markus shivered uncontrollably and tried not to sag too much to strain his left arm, but it was hard.  He was dripping wet, his bandages soaked through with the amount of water they had thrown on him at random times to prevent him from falling asleep during the course of at least a day, maybe two…  His brain was already muddled enough with the sense of time that he did not know how long he had been hanging on his chains.

His left arm was a constant dull throb, occasionally shooting up spikes of pain whenever he tried to move it to make the rest of his body comfortable.  He knew wet bandages were not good, and if left alone prolonged the healing process, and may infect his wound with gangrene if left alone.  The thought was like a knife through his awareness as he realized, the longer he stayed here, with a half-treated arm, the more of a chance he would have of losing his arm.

He suddenly felt very attached to his arm, taking it for granted all of the things he was able to do.  He had seen the looks of pity for those without limbs, the occasional avoidance of such handicapped people.  It had disgusted him then to wonder how people could think such thoughts until he realized that those pity-filled gazes would be directed at him if he lost his arm.

People would say it was for a good cause that he had fought against corruption and Daniel but he knew in the end, Daniel would have won because his lost arm would be a reminder of to those who had crossed his ideals, crossed Jacob.  An involuntary twitch shook him before he tried to steady his weakening body once more.  He felt parched and the little rivets of water he had tried to lick off of his own face as they dripped down his face and into his mouth was not enough to quench his thirst.

He needed to escape this hell hole…

Markus suddenly coughed and spluttered as another bucket of icy water was thrown into his face before suddenly he heard booted feet approaching and the jarring clicks of metal against metal before he suddenly fell to the floor, his stretched out arms flopping painfully against his own body as he tried to catch himself.

However, his muscles, unused in a while sluggishly responded to his commands before wrenching pain shot up and down his body as his arms were wrenched upwards once more and he was dragged out of the room.  The first light hit his eyes and he shied away, squeezing his eyes shut against the bright glare.

After a few minutes, he squinted them open and saw that it wasn’t a bright glare, in fact, it was very dim.  He realized he had been stuck in that darkened room for a very long time…  He couldn’t exactly see where they were taking him once more, but he was relieved that it was out of that godforsaken area.  However, his vision was still a bit fuzzy and half-blind, but he vaguely recognized the metal bars of what looked like a small cell.

The screech of metal on metal as they opened the cell door made him wince in pain before he was unceremoniously dumped him face down onto its moldy cot and closed the door with a loud bang.  Markus felt too tired, too weakened to move from his position, only grateful that he was able to lie down again even though his left arm was now very vocal in its protests.

He stared at the tile grains along the wall as exhaustion claimed him and his eyes slipped closed…

“Noble,” her whisper teased his ears and Markus wanted to smile at such sentiment, but somehow he couldn’t get his mouth working.

However, he could feel her finger trace a lazy slow winding path from his ears down across his neck, slowly down his back…

Markus suddenly jolted awake and tried to move before rivets of agony clawed their way up and down his body as he forced open his eyes and looked up, his world tilted in his sideways gaze to see the same woman who had attempted to seduce him earlier sitting right next to him on his moldy cot.

His breath hitched as he saw her, smile slowly down on him.  Thankfully she was not dressed in that negligee and instead wore a corset.  Her smile widened as she caught him staring at her and her finger stopped its tracing of circles on the small of his back and brushed a few strands of his shortened hair.

“You want me back in that outfit, little noble one?” she teased him gently and he tried to frown but found that his mouth wouldn’t move.  In fact, he realized that most of his body wouldn’t move.  It only twitched and reacted when he had flooded his system with adrenaline.

She suddenly bent down and he could smell the perfume on her before she whispered quietly in his ear.  “You’ve been injected with some muscle relaxants…”

She retreated slightly and he looked at her, wondering why on earth someone like her would tell him such a thing before she gave him another slow seductive smile and bent down once more, her finger resuming its lazy circles.  He still felt weak and dizzied before he tensed as she licked his earlobe.

“Your friends are coming…”

He froze as she turned her head, still keeping her mouth close to his, but her eyes caught his in a glittering blue of sorrow and he realized that she had deliberately lowered her head in order to shield their faces from whatever cameras or whoever may be watching them.

She kissed him gently on the cheek, “I am sorry…but…you must hold on…”  She suddenly kissed him full on the lips, her mouth coaxing his open until his widened his shock as he felt her tongue touch his before just as suddenly, he felt something hard press against it, something metallic before she retreated and he forced himself not to swallow, lest risk swallowing whatever she had put into his mouth.

“Don’t tell my sister,” she whispered to him before she just as suddenly stood up and stepped to the side.

Markus could only stare at her as he realized that she _was_ Lauren all along.  The shock of finding out that she was a spy within Jacob's ranks wore off quite quickly as guards suddenly swarmed into the small cell and picked him up roughly.  He gasped out in pain and nearly felt the thin metallic pill-like cylinder drop out of his mouth before he caught it and hid it in between his cheek and lower jaw bone.

He barely glanced up at Lauren to see her expression turn into a completely bored look before they dragged him away.

Markus was determined to at least walk on his own legs to wherever they were taking him next and forced himself to stand, to push past the muscle relaxants in his  system; wrenching his left and right arms, the muscles still stretched and calcified to send shooting pain down to his finger tips before stumbling along with the guards.  He saw a few of them start at his attempt to walk along before they merely snickered and continued along.  They frog-marched him to an elevator in the plush hallways and one of the guards pressed a button to take them upwards.

There were no numbers, no beeps to indicate how many floors, but after a few minutes, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open quietly before they hauled him out and walked him down another opulently plush hallway.  This had to be a refurbished hotel in a city, Markus surmised.  Everything was powered by electricity and it looked like he had walked into something from the Old World.  He had to be in the building that housed Jacob's power base.

They stopped in front of the door before one of the armed guards knocked quietly on the door and after a few seconds, the double mahogany doors opened, revealing a spacious penthouse suite.  It was like out of a housing magazine that his mother always liked to read, pointing out the nice decorations.  Markus had not been too keen on the images, always filing them away in the back of his mind; he preferred to read the newest scientific pursuits or even the latest political hot spot news.

The wooden floors echoed with each of their steps as the guards marched him in and turned him roughly towards a windowed area where a giant corporate desk stood, Jacob sitting in a worn, but plush looking leather seat.  Next to him, standing by the window was Vincent...or was it Jacob who was standing by the window, smoking on a stogie and Vincent sitting in the seat – they were really twins, so much that he couldn't tell them apart.

“Sir, we've brought the prisoner,” the guard holding his right arm spoke up quietly.

“He looks tired, doesn't he?” one of the twins spoke up, puffing a ring out from his stogie before putting it out in an ashtray by the desk.

“Markus, I'm sure you've met my brother Vincent; Vincent, you remember Markus, don't you?” Jacob spoke up from behind his seat, tapping his finger tips lightly.

“We've met,” Markus looked darkly from his hooded eyes.  His clothes still felt damp on him and he shivered as he felt the air filtration system blowing around the room.  He could feel the muscle relaxant wearing off.  “Sorry if I don't extend my hand to shake yours.  They seem to be- ah! - occupied.”  He winced as the guard holding his left arm pulled his arm sharply in retaliation for his sarcasm.

“I thought he had his wounds dressed,” Vincent looked at him in mock concern and Jacob waved a hand idly.

“I did,” he replied, “not my fault that he's an unbeliever and continues to defy me and Daniel's wisdom.”

“He's a fake,” Markus tried to control another shiver and stared at Jacob, “and you know it.  Slave labor-”

“-Worker camps-”

“-Slave labor is all he will create.  Where a few of the elite will rule over the masses.  Nothing but a dictatorship,” his breath hitched as he felt the long finger of pain shoot from his injured arm to his heart, and felt like a hand was squeezing it tightly.  The pain lasted only a second, but to him it felt like a lifetime.

He knew his arm had been wrenched to hit a deep nerve.  When the pain finally dissipated, he managed to stare levelly at Jacob who had a smile on his face before he suddenly got up from his chair, and rounded the table.

“Markus, will you not cooperate with us?  I know you are in a lot of pain.  I've deliberately avoided hurting you further because I want you to see the truth.  That your resistance is futile and that you yourself need a strong leader,” he asked, staring down at him as Vincent took his seat and twirled around without a care in the world, whistling aimlessly as he tossed up a baseball and played catch with himself.

“And you think that with Sims out of the way, you can just waltz right in and take over Daniel's leadership?” Markus shook his head, “You're full of shit.”

“No, no, we will continue to maintain that Daniel is the rightful leader, but it will be a subtle takeover.  After all, the masses will be lost without Daniel to guide them,” Jacob shrugged, “and the war will continue.”

“The people will find out.  You haven't crushed us yet.  I die, and the Western Alliance will go on,” he said.

“Now, really, all that drama...I've already told you, I don't want you dead.  You're a nexus.  You're the center of the Alliance whether or not you realize it.  My brother told me that you humble yourself in the meetings, yet you do not realize your strengths and your own power,” Jacob's smile grew wider, “Do you know who you really are, Markus Alexander?”

“Enlighten me,” he shot back sarcastically.

“You, my little rebellious leader,” Jacob stepped closer to him, “were named after the God Ares.  That's what Markus means.  And your last name, the name of Alexander the Great.  Your parents were right to name you so as you wield such power.”

“So shouldn't you be afraid of me?” Markus gave him a crooked smile, “Wow I've got a war-like name and I'm named after the Greek conqueror.  _That_ is quite scary.”

“Now, now,” Jacob chided him, “I just want you to at least see things from our perspective.  Put the Alliance away to the side for once.  You said so yourself that the Alliance was the center, that it can survive without you.  So let me propose this; if you think they can lead themselves, then let them do so.  Let Theo, Erin, Nathan, all of those people take care of the Alliance.  See what Daniel is about, what he really is about.  I guarantee his ideals will benefit yours...and you will believe in what he says.”

“You see,” Vincent spoke up behind them, still occasionally tossing up his baseball and catching it, “we're not just about the work force and the rumors that you've heard.  Those are from disgruntled factions, those who would see to usurp Daniel's powers and use it for their own gain.  No, we want the same thing you want...we want to unite America into a whole country once more.”

“Under one leader, this sounds awfully familiar,” Markus thinned his lips as he clamped down on another involuntary shudder of chill.  “You guys don't even sound that different from Valhalla Sector.”

“A strong leader,” Vincent smiled before glancing at his brother and gave a small unspoken shrug.

“Tell you what Markus,” Jacob stood in front of him and Markus had to quell the childish urge to stand on his tip toes.  He was at least a few inches taller than Jacob or Vincent on his flat feet, but knew that by standing on his tip toes when they were this close together would no doubt irritate Jacob to no end.  However, it would also earn him another punishing blow to his arm and that he didn't want happening.  “I know you're just like any other human I've met since the Big Death.  You think what Daniel is building is under a strong leader; well I'm offering you that chance to be that strong leader in wake of Daniel's...untimely demise, shall we say?”  He glanced back at his brother and both shared a hidden grin with each other, laughing at a silent joke in between them.

“Think of what you can do if you controlled all of the forces that belong to Daniel,” the seductive words of power made Markus quickly draw in a breath of surprise.

It was ultimately what the goal of the Western Alliance wanted, wasn't it?  To make sure that Daniel's forces worked together with them.  With him at its helm, he could quickly make sure that everyone worked together for the sake of building a new world.  Erin would be fine running ThunderMountain with the Council's help.  They respected her and she definitely was a lot less stubborn than he was.  The Council would appreciate that she was a better leader than he was...

With him at the helm of Daniel's forces, he would be able to rapidly incorporate the Western Alliance's ideals and therefore eliminate the slave labor camps.  Rachel, the resistance leader wouldn't have to send her men and women to die in futile effort against Daniel.  Lives would be saved...  They could truly become the New American Alliance, a new United States...

The Army could be disbanded and put to work on something new, construction of the infrastructure of the United States.  There could be the realignment of the power grid, to get electricity and running water back to everyone...

“You realize it, don't you?” Jacob looked at him, seeing the comprehension in his eyes and his thoughts suddenly stilled as he stared into the dark eyes of the handsome man.

No...Jacob offered him these promises, and Markus had no doubt that he would be willing to work with him.  Sure there would be occasional stalling of plans, because the two didn't see eye to eye.  But Jacob would make sure that once his job was done, once Daniel became a much stronger and cohesive force under his care, then he, Markus Alexander, would be quietly and quickly disposed of.  He saw in those glittering dark eyes the horror and pain that would follow the completion of his plan.

The Western Alliance would fall quickly after he was eliminated.  It wasn't lack of leadership, but more of traitorous infiltration.   Where there would be progress, there would always be spies within, disseminating information to weaken the hearts of the Alliance members, spreading lies and corruption within.  His name would be dragged through mud even though he was working to build a new government and help them.  Jacob and Vincent would have their men say that he struck a traitorous bargain with them, to save his own skin at the expense of the Western Alliance.

They would say that he was ultimately a power-hungry man who lied when he put forth his ideals first instead of himself first.  That he knew something like this was bound to happen, and so he decided to save his own skin first.  Erin, Lee, Jeremiah, Kurdy, every one of his friends would also be questioned for their leadership.  People would slowly believe that they too had gone along with Jacob's offer to save their own skins...they would be the foundation of a new empire instead of a democracy.

By the time Jacob eliminated him; the people would love him for it and ultimately secure the real power-hungry man’s seat of power in an everlasting legacy.  He knew that he could rationalize it the other way, to try to keep his own name pure and put Jacob's in mud, but the more he thought about it the more he realized that he only need let Jacob's actions speak for themselves.

History was written in actions, not in the silky smooth words of what people did.  Everyone remembered the big battles not because of the words, but because of the actions people did during those battles.  Everyone remembered that it was young Gavrilo Princip who assassinated Archduke Ferdinand of Austria and started World War I.  It was his actions that spurred more actions...not his words as everyone had forgotten them.

He could justify his acceptance of the tantalizing offer by his own actions, but he knew in the end, history remembered the long term actions, humans that made history, remembered the short term words.

“Only those who don't seek power are the greatest of leaders,” he looked up at Jacob and shook his head, a triumphant smile pulling at the corners of his lips, “I don't want the power.”

He saw Jacob frown before staring at him in consideration and stood up, exhaling a loud sigh.  “Really...well, that is most unfortunate.”  He turned to his brother, “Vincent, what do you think?  Box?”

“He can be a mockery of what he once was, so yeah...the Box,” Vincent shrugged, “it'll give the people something to look at besides the usual rabble we dig up.”

Markus had no idea what they were talking about, but he suspected it would be anything but pleasant.  He held onto the slim hope that it wasn't anymore physical torture since he hadn't endured too much during his time here, with the exception being his gunshot wound.  But he didn't cling onto that hope too tightly, knowing that anytime, Jacob could be more ruthless than he was showing to him.  After all, no one who shot four people in cold blood and then sat down as if nothing had happened was lenient in the long run.

He saw Jacob suddenly gesture for the guards to take him away and Markus braced himself for more pain when suddenly he felt a prick of a needle entering his neck before suddenly his world spun around, more dizzily than he knew and his limbs felt very heavy...then all was black as he collapsed boneless to the ground.

                                    *                      *                      *

Jacob watched with a slight smile on his face as Markus Alexander collapsed to the ground, unconscious, by the sedative one of his guards had stabbed into him.  The man was running a high fever from infection and he didn't even notice.  And still had the gall to speak to him the way he did...and with all of his mental faculties intact too.  He was amazing...and dangerous.  He finally understood why Sims was so obsessed with the other half of the nexus, Jeremiah.

If the stories he heard about Jeremiah were applied to Markus and vice versa, then he was very glad to have Markus in his hands.  He wondered if he should have had his men capture Jeremiah back when he was obviously snooping around Gabriel Sims' tent in an effort to find out information about the Army of Daniel.  No doubt that he found anything of significance, but even if he did, Jacob knew that his plans were already in motion and there was nothing the paltry Western Alliance could do to stop him.

“Do you think, maybe we should patch him up a bit more before throwing him to the Box?” his twin brother spoke up behind him and he turned slightly, raising an eyebrow.

“Concerned?” his brother had survived the harshness of the Outside world far longer than he had and he wondered if he was the softer one than he was...

“No,” Vincent pursed his lips and tossed up his favorite baseball into the air and caught it neatly, “just wondering if he dies in the Box...well, we won't be able to use him as leverage against the Western Alliance anymore...”

Jacob shrugged, “If he dies, then better for you and me.  We can move further with our plans.  Besides, think of the moral blow if he was to die a slow death...it's like seeing your greatest enemy bleed out in a slow death, and I think it'll hurt the Western Alliance in the long run than if we killed him quickly.”  He had learned a lot from his brother and how some in the Outside thought, especially the groups that needed to be suppressed, like the racist ones, the far right and far left ones, the radicals...

“Ah,” Vincent grinned and he grinned too, sharing the same thoughts as his twin brother.  “I taught you that, remember?”

“Yeah,” he nodded before turning back around; the smile wiped quickly off of his face and gestured for the guards to take Markus away.  They did so without a word and left the two of them alone in their home.  Turning back to his brother he tilted his head, “So what are you up for tonight?  I could use a little Russian myself...but...I'm thinking Lauren would be nice...”

“I still think she's awfully familiar...can't place it though,” he knew his brother avoided Lauren at all costs and even he was a bit surprised to hear Markus mention her by name after he said his second-in-command's name.  He had filed it under his list of things to investigate, but he knew that Lauren was faithful to him...after all; he had given her a second chance when she and her ragged band of so called friends had arrived in one of Daniel's camps up in the Northwest.

He gave her a better life than the one she was going to get if she had stayed in that particular camp and it was only because he had been considering scouting out Seattle to see if the city would be amenable to having Daniel around.

“Should I kill her if you're so worried?” he valued his brother's advice, after all, siblings separated and reunited under God's care should always seek support from each other.  He knew Vincent felt the same and the two of them were unstoppable.

“Nah,” Vincent grinned at him before getting up and tossing him the worn baseball, “I've seen how you fuck her.  She's good, gotta give you that.  She makes you happy.”

“Thank you little brother for being so considerate,” he teased as he headed towards the door.

“Not at all little brother,” Vincent replied.  It was an old joke between them.  They had been born almost exactly at the same time and before their parents had died, they had not told them who was the older one or younger one.  “I'm gonna head down to the casino...thank you for the offer, but we've got a nice game going in recent days.”

“Don't lose...I hate to drag your sorry ass back up here,” he knew that his men would never ever beat his brother in any game, but those that showed boldness he had always brought them up for consideration and had occasionally rewarded the ones who were loyal.  The others...well, there was the Box and there was just simple execution of troublemakers.

“Whatever, Jake, whatever,” Vincent waved his hand in a goodbye before heading out of their penthouse suite.

Jacob smiled for a second before walking over to the phone and pressed a button, “Get me Lauren.”

                                    *                      *                      *

Jeremiah had parked the car in an abandoned cargo carrier along one of the piers of the port of Baltimore, far away from the lights that lit part of the city, but close enough to the aquarium that if it was indeed the main hideout for Baltimore's Resistance group, then they would able to move Markus quickly.

He didn't know how injured he would be, but judging by Gina's tearful blubbering, John's scared faith; he suspected Markus would be in a world of pain, hurt, and probably some broken bones.  Outside people were definitely more ruthless than Valhalla, he knew that from fact.  It didn't matter if Jacob had a last name or not, he was not under the direct eye of Valhalla and that gave people more leeway.

Inside Valhalla, Waverly had at least some sense of proper decorum, even when electrocuting him; he at least did not suffer any broken bones or damaged limbs.  The only thing that troubled him was Waverly's rant about schle-whatever...fear...

“Well, this is it,” Kurdy declared and Jeremiah shot a crooked grin to his friend, before looking at Smith who had a map in his hands, looking up and down from it.

To his chagrin, he realized that Smith had been holding the map upside down and shook his head.  He walked over and turned the map over in his hands.  “This way...here's where we are...”

“Oh,” Smith looked at him, his cheeks coloring in faint embarrassment, “thanks...”

“And here's where you'll all stay if you don't hold your hands up and let us take whatever you've got.  There's a toll coming through the aquarium,” a new voice made them freeze and turn around.

“Listen,” Jeremiah grimaced, half wondering if it was a trap that they had walked into, or was it really the Resistance members that held them hostage, “we don't want any trouble.”

“We saw you in one of Daniel's cars...that's trouble enough,” the gang's leader, at least ten others with various guns trained on them and Jeremiah groaned inwardly.  He knew he should have refused his father's offer of driving a car that looked like one of Daniel's vehicles.  It just made for too much trouble...

“We want you to bring a message to Daniel...he can't hurt us out here.  He tries, with shit-for-brains like you, then everyone dies,” their leader was a tall man with a shaved head and tattoos all over his face.  He was dressed in ragged jean-like clothing and looked like a punk that Jeremiah would have seen and completely avoided outside his school if he was younger.  He looked like a typical bully.

“Listen, we just want to find out more about Sheridan,” Smith spoke up behind Jeremiah and he gave a sideways look of exasperation to the oddball.  What the hell was he doing?  There was no way-

“Rachel sent you?!”

-okay may God decided to fuck with him today...  He gaped at their leader who was also looking at them in equal shock.

“You Alec Cole?” Kurdy asked, staring at the tattooed man.

“Just Alec.  My last name doesn't mean anything here,” the man looked at them with some trepidation in his eyes, “how the hell do I know you guys didn't kill Rachel's contact and took his code words?”

“Uh...you don't?” Jeremiah still couldn't completely wrap his head around the concept that someone who looked like such a bully could be the leader of the Baltimore Resistance.  “Listen, Devon sent us from Valhalla with this car...said we'll be able to blend in and make sure Daniel doesn't ambush us or something...”

“Valhalla?” Alec scratched his chin for a few seconds then looked at them shrewdly, “we've heard rumors that it fell less than a year ago...”

“Yeah...Kurdy kind of had a hand in that,” he gestured to his friend who frowned at him.

“You Kurdy?” Alec looked surprised as he looked up and down him.

“Who's asking?” Kurdy replied, sounding defensive.

“And you...you've got to be Jeremiah then,” the smile on Alec's face made Jeremiah worried.  However, he turned his gaze to Smith and frowned, “You, I don't know...”

“Mister Smith,” Smith looked a bit affronted.

“Whatever,” Alec dismissed him with a wave of his hand before glancing at his men, “lower your guns.”

Jeremiah let out a sigh of relief before putting his hands down as Alec stepped forward, offering his hand.  He shook it and grimaced as the man's grip was very painfully firm.

“I thought I'd never get to meet the two people in the world that managed to single-handedly piss of Sims in New York City.  I have to admit, I was insanely jealous that my cousin Rachel got to meet you guys.”

“Cousin?  Rachel's your cousin?” Jeremiah looked at Alec quickly and did notice some Asiatic features in close up, but he was more Anglo-Saxon than Asian.

“Family history...” Alec shrugged, “anyways, sorry about the weapons...we like to be cautious and since you guys did drive up in a car that's marked like Daniel's...”

“We'll let Devon know to change the décor,” Kurdy also shook hands along with Smith who quietly shook out his arm after Alec gave it a rather painful squeeze.

“Come on in, I'll let you guys know what's going on and you guys tell me what's going on,” Alec gestured for them to follow him as his men flanked him, some of them peeling away to head to obvious look-out stations.

“So, Devon's in charge of Valhalla now,” as they followed him into the darkened aquarium, Jeremiah had to wrinkle his nose at the faint, but lingering stench of rotten fish.  He didn't see any fish in the tanks, but the water was definitely murky.  He had no doubt many of the fish here were probably eaten when people needed food and raided the area.  But no one had bothered to clean up the tank...and he suspected there were probably some dead fish in those murky waters, fish too small to be eaten or caught.

“Yeah,” Jeremiah replied, vowing not to say anything about his father that would reveal that he had survived the Big Death, “he's allied to the Western Alliance and ThunderMountain.”

“That's good to know...maybe I'll send one of my boys to meet him.  It would be good to have the military resources Valhalla has,” Alec continued thoughtfully, giving him a pointed look that told him that he knew he was holding information back.

“I'm sure he'll be open to welcome another ally into the Western Alliance,” Jeremiah knew he would have to warn his father that Alec was very much interested in any military resources...

“We're not interested in joining what ThunderMountain's been producing,” Alec suddenly said, “we're interested because we believe it's mutually beneficial.  Whatever you guys are preaching out there, we don't want to join.  We're independent and we don't need another dictator telling us what we can and what we can't do.”

“That's not what the Alliance is about,” Jeremiah knew it was an old argument.  The same argument he had had with Rachel when they had infiltrated New York City a few months ago.  “We respect the independence of each and every leader and town that joins.  We're just a loose coalition of allies.”

“That's not what your Army at Four Roads says,” the threaded their way past the dolphin tanks, “as far as I see it, you guys are nothing but conquering forces.  It just so happens that Daniel's forces got to you before you got a chance to deploy your forces.”

“Hey,” Kurdy started, offended, “we're not building an army here.  Everyone's volunteer and we give them a sense of purpose and of hope when they come out of our training program.  We give them free room and board and they leave with a sense of purpose.  Each one of them wants to defend their neighbors and friends.  We don't draft them, they volunteer.”

Alec stopped and turned around, giving Kurdy a long and searching look.  This was the first time that Jeremiah had heard his friend be so vocal and so proud of the men and women he was training.  He glanced over to see Smith also grinning.

“You really believe that, don't you Kurdy?” Alec's voice was neutral and Kurdy nodded emphatically.

“Yeah, I do,” he looked the man who could equal him in height square in the eye.

“Good,” Alec looked assured about something before turning back around and continuing on.

“That's it?” Jeremiah was curious.

“What, he's a believer.  I'm not going to fault him for that,” Alec gave him a look and somehow Jeremiah felt like he was being left out of something in between Kurdy and Alec.  He glanced back at Smith and saw the oddball shrug, feeling left out too.  And here he thought he was the charismatic one.

They continued deeper into the aquarium in silence before Alec lead them through a set of double doors and Jeremiah's eyes widened at the sight of so many computers and electronic equipment set up in the room.  All of them were lit up...

“Hydroelectricity,” Alec looked a bit proud as he gestured to his set up, “my father used to work on dams all over the country before he figured out how to get a small propeller set up down in the aquarium to provide a nice constant flow of electricity.  Taught me and a few of his friends the tricks to maintaining it before the Big D caught up with him.”

“That's...really impressive, but-”

“Yeah we're in a basin, but we've got the aquarium's rigs set up so that there's a constant flow of water,” Alec answered Smith's unspoken question.  “I had my guys scavenge the remnants of FortMcHenry and bring stuff up here when they weren't diverted by Jacob's forces so he thinks he controls whatever he sees in Baltimore and it's surrounding areas, but he doesn't know I can see what he sees too.”

“So what did you see?” Kurdy asked.

“That the rumors have it some big wig from the Alliance was captured and brought in here...” Alec looked at them shrewdly and Jeremiah wondered how far he should trust him.  He decided the less information he knew, the better...Alec may have brought them into his base, but like he had said, he did not want to join the Alliance...

“And we're here to rescue the guy,” he replied shrugging, “what have you got?”

“One of our operatives has confirmed where the prisoner is being held, but we have no way of breaking in safely and extracting him out,” Alec held up a laser pointer and pointed it at an area on a highly detailed map of Baltimore that was spread across one side of the room.  “This is where we are,” he pointed to the area marked near the WorldTradeCenter and pointed downwards towards FortMcHenry.  “This whole area is where Jacob rules.  You guys are lucky to have taken the loop to get here.  Otherwise, you would have been caught.”

Jeremiah nodded his agreement.  They had seen the lights as they had driven up the old Baltimore-Washington highway and had wisely decided to take the old I-695 loop to the other side of the city before approaching the Aquarium.

Moving his pointer, he highlighted another part of the map, near the aquarium, “This is where Jacob and his little sanctum is,” Alec smirked at their shocked expressions, “what, we live next to him and he won't know what hit him.  The old IntercontinentalHarborCourtHotel.  Swanky place when it was still around before the Big D.  Guess Jacob liked it enough to make it his headquarters.  Plus he is able to walk to Camden Yards and check on the slave labor there while having easy access to FortMcHenry.”

“Peachy,” Jeremiah groused, “so we have to break into the hotel.”

“Hello,” Alec whacked him none too gently on the arm, “didn't you hear what I said?  You can't break in.”

“So then what?” he shot back, more than a bit irritated.

“Our operative on the inside hasn't gotten confirmation yet, but we think that your guy may be put in the Box soon,” Alec looked at them and at their puzzled expressions sighed, “I guess you guys don't have that sort of thing.”

“And as far as I know, neither does Rachel,” Jeremiah was a bit annoyed with Alec's know-it-all attitude on top of his shaved head and bully look.  It felt like a bad middle school reunion all of the sudden.

“Oh they have it; all of Daniel's cities have it.  The Box is what they put political prisoners, dissenters, anyone they see fit, even prostitutes for show.  Actually wait the prostitutes like that, because it draws in more crowd and money for them.  The others, not so much...” Alec shook his head, “It's a clear case prison, a literal box that is in a row in front of the Hotel and anyone including the slaves in the camps can come up and heckle whoever is in it.  There are guards around just to make sure that they don't plan an escape or anything or let the crowd get too rowdy around the prisoners, but pretty much its a free-for-all.”

Jeremiah shuddered inwardly at how Markus could be so publicly humiliated and displayed like some meat in a market place.

“So what do you propose, we free him then?” Kurdy crossed his arms, looking skeptical.

“Yes,” Alec held up a hand to stop whatever protest he was going to say, “only because once a day, Jacob likes to strut around the prisoners, take them out of the Box and taunt them in front of the crowd, usually whenever the slave labors are getting done for the night.  It makes them even more cowed.”

“So how come we can't get him before he's put on the Box?  Why not attack and swap?”

“Hey, I may have guns and men, but I'm not throwing them away like useless toys just to save someone whom I don't even know could trust.  No, we'll use the slave labor crowd as a distraction.  They can overpower the guards, some will die make no mistake about it, but in that distraction, we'll grab your guy and bolt.”

“How many people are we looking at?”

“Jacob's men?  Well I think at least-”

“No, I meant civilians.  How many do you think will die?” Kurdy cut him off, giving him a pointed look.

He saw Alec shrug, “I dunno...maybe twenty, thirty?  It's not my problem.”

“Wait a minute,” Jeremiah stepped in front of Kurdy to stop his advancement and faced Alec, “you may not care, but we care.  We're not cold-blooded killers like Daniel, Jacob, or whoever is running this show now.  Now, I know someone like you has guns stashed away for a rainy day.  Give some to the labors...at least they can take down a few guards that'll make our lives easier...”

“No way!” Alec looked at him, angry.  “You think-”

“Then you're no better than Daniel or his ideals if you're going to sacrifice thirty unarmed civilians just to get our man out,” Jeremiah shot back.

Alec pointed a finger at him, “This is _your_ guy we're talking about.  If you don't like the way I operate you can walk out right now and have fun getting your guy back.”

Jeremiah immediately knew that he had overstepped his bounds, but he still couldn't believe that someone like Alec, someone who was fighting against Daniel and his ideals would be so willing to sacrifice that many just to get at his goals.  Was he willing to go it alone in Baltimore with only Kurdy and Smith as his backups?  “Listen...” he hesitated.  He didn't want to compromise his morals just so Markus could be rescued and even then knew that Markus would never forgive them for letting thirty unarmed civilians die so he could be saved...

“Take the night; think about it,” Alec suddenly said, sensing his hesitation and jerked his head towards someone who came forward, “Louis can show you to your temporary beds.  If you want to look around the city and where the Box is, you can, but you'll have one of my men following you at all times.  You look like you're gonna sell us out, we'll kill you.”

Jeremiah didn't protest the terms, still angry at what Alec had said about the civilians and followed a young ropey kid named Louis away from the central command post and back towards the entrance.  They made a detour through the dolphin tanks and came upon a series of communal beds in a fairly large room.

“You guys can have the three beds over there.  If you want to leave, talk to either myself or Timmy.  We'll get you an escort and show you around,” Louis patted the side of his pants and Jeremiah knew that the kid was packing a gun of sorts in that pocket, reminding them of Alec's warning.  He nodded and plopped himself on the bed, too tired from his recent travels to even care.

“You really think that Alec's gonna do it?” Smith asked quietly from his bed.

“Seems like it,” Kurdy replied, “man, what I don't get is why?  He's too agitated...too...wound up about it.”

“Hell if I know,” Jeremiah shrugged before he looked up slightly to see Smith get up from his bed, shouldering his ever-present knapsack.  “You going somewhere Smith?”

“Yeah...I wanna see if I can take a few pictures of this place,” he glanced back and tapped the top part of his sack and Jeremiah shrugged.

“All right, just don't get yourself shot.  I ain't your babysitter,” he glanced at Kurdy and saw the hint of a smile on his friend's face as Smith left them.

“You going to take up their offer on exploring the city?” Kurdy asked him.

“Yeah, probably in a few hours though...I'm beat,” he replied turning over to the side of the bed.  “Ain't gonna do us much help to Markus if we're bone tired...”

“That's true,” he heard Kurdy shift on his bunk before Jeremiah closed his eyes and forced himself to at least get a few hours of sleep.

                                    *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            I’m not quite familiar with Baltimore, having been there a few times, but I do love its aquarium.  Forgive me if there are errors in describing the wonderful city.  If anyone thinks that torture I put Markus through was tame, you guys should read Lusankya.  I really mess up the main character in that story.  For this story, I tried to stay as realistic as possible within the world of Jeremiah, so there will be no fanfic-type of torture elements that you may be used to reading in it.  Anyways, Part 4 will be the past part in this story and the next one will be posted soon, I hope!  Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	4. Part 4: Escape

Jeremiah: Echoes and Shadows

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Disclaimer:**

_Jeremiah_ and its characters are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Sam Egan, Luke Perry, MGM/UA, and Showtime. This story is for amusement only and I didn’t get any money for it. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 **Timeframe:** Immediately after “ _Interregnum – Part 2_ ”

 

**Story:**

_Part 4 – Escape_

 

Markus awakened groggily, slowly blinking his eyes open.  He shivered as wind blew through the air, reminding him of his damp clothes and hugged himself tighter…wait a minute…wind?!  Markus snapped opened his eyes and looked around.  He was in a plexiglass like box on a concrete stand in the middle of the wide sidewalk on a very busy pedestrian street.  Holes just a little bigger than his fingers lined each side of the cube cell he had been put in, which explained how the wind could blow through so easily.

Laughter filtered through the hole and he turned to look over his shoulder to see a few people sneering and pointing at him.  “Looks like the idiot’s awake,” one of the sneered, “first time in the Box, eh?”

So this was what Jacob and Vincent meant regarding the Box…he realized as he ignored the jeer and looked around him.  The sky was cloudy and grey, but bits of sunshine were peeking through and he was grateful that he finally got some fresh air and sunlight instead of perpetual darkness.  He looked across and saw a whole line of other plexiglass clear Boxes, some in different sizes and shapes, all of them occupied, lining the street.

The towering hotel that read INTERCONTINENTAL HARBOR COURT was behind them and he had to crane his neck upwards in order to see to the top floor.  He suspected this was probably the hotel he had found himself in and also where Jacob’s main headquarters was.  A gigantic image of Daniel was hanging from the top floor and draped downwards followed by a banner that said, DANIEL HELPS ALL.

As he dropped his gaze to the street level, he saw many people milling about; most of them armed with guns, but others were running to and fro, ignoring the rest of the prisoners in the Boxes or stepping forward and jeering at those in the boxes.  He saw at least one person throw something at another in a Box before laughing and running away.

There were armed guards near the Boxes, but he suspected that they wouldn’t do a thing if people decided to throw stuff at them.

He realized that the Boxes were designed to publicly humiliate and degrade the prisoners within and he suspected that they were probably Daniel dissenters, rivals, or even Resistance members.

“Hey!” the slap of a hand on the plexiglass startled Markus as he looked back over his shoulder once more to see the original heckler look at him, eyes angry, “I’m talking you, you piece of fucking shit.  Listen while your betters talk!”

“If you were my better, I would listen,” Markus muttered before he leaned over and covered his mouth as he felt a cough working its way up his throat.  He winced as he felt his injured arm pull at the force of his cough.

He suddenly felt something wet coat his still-damp shirt and the sound of glass breaking and turned slightly to see that his heckler had thrown a bottle of something at him, the bottle shattering against his prison, but the holes in the plexiglass had let some of the liquid through along with small bits and shards of glass that stuck onto the remnants of his shirt.

“Take that you motherfucker!” the heckler gave him a smile of pure vitriol before running to join the rest of his friends who slapped him on the back with cheers and whistles before they walked away.

Markus could only shake his head and sigh.  He was angry, but he also knew that it was the type of anger that was needless.  It was bullying in its pure and simplest form…the same type he had received while he was in high school before the Big Death.  He had entered high school at an early age and after his freshman year had begged his Dad to continue to home-school him since he couldn’t exactly take the bullying at the private school he was in.

His parents had enrolled him in self-defense classes before that, but even so, he never liked using physical force on others, preferring to let his words and subtle actions guide him.  His father had agreed to continue to home school him and he had finished high school in a year and half after that and was already considering colleges when the Big Death swept through the world.

“New here, aren’t ya?” one the guards suddenly spoke up near him and he glanced up to see him with a wiry smile on his face, his partner laughing silently.

“Quiet one by the looks of him,” his partner replied, shifting the long barreled shotgun he had on his shoulder.

“Got that right,” the original guard replied before jerking his head towards him, “I give you two hours, then you won’t be so quiet anymore.”

“He’ll be yelling and screaming like the rest of them,” they snickered amongst themselves and Markus turned his head to stare out into the pedestrian crowd, determined to ignore whatever they said.

He gritted his teeth, feeling a well of frustration build up in him before his teeth ran over the little metal cylinder still in his mouth and he bent down and spit it out into his right hand.  He stared at it, a thin little thing with a line down the middle.  He turned it over his hand and saw a little formula written on one of the rounded end points.  AgNO3.  Silver nitrate.

Markus glanced at his wound, which had bled through his soaked bandages and knew that silver nitrate was used as an antiseptic back before recent medicine was invented and there were people who occasionally still used it.  Lauren had known that he wasn’t going to get anymore medical care beyond his soaked wrappings and she also knew that his wound was probably infected…

Maybe that was why he was having chills…he had an infection and fever and was constantly cold.  As if his body was responding to his thoughts, another involuntary shudder wracked his body and he huddled himself closer before glancing from the little pill of silver nitrate to his own wound.

He didn’t have anything to lose, but he had a whole world of hurt to gain.  Gritting his teeth he placed the silver nitrate pill into his left hand and started to pick at his wrappings with his right.  With each touch, no matter how light his fingers, he gritted his teeth and sucked in quick breaths as little shots of pain ran up and down his arm and through his neck.

He could hear murmurs of horror from his observers outside, but ignored them as he finally managed to half open the dressing and nearly retched in his throat at the state of the wound.  There was evidence that it had been neatly examined and sterilized before and he suspected that the bullet had been taken out, but whatever sterilization had occurred was long gone.

The wound was pulsating a gooey purplish-red blood and he could see the edges of the hole were bright red and white.  His wound was infected by so many wrenchings and tossing of water on him in the past…he didn’t even know how many days he had been stuck in his prison.

Forcing himself to continue his task, he broke the nitrate pill, spilling a few drops onto the plexiglass before taking one half of the small liquid and poured it on his wound.  As soon as the silver nitrate touched his wound, agony exploded in his arm, racing their claws up and down and throughout his body to the point where he curled in on himself and gasped.

It _hurt…_

Markus didn’t know how long he had been curled in on himself, gasping in pain before it finally died away and he realized that in his little tremors, he had dropped the other half of the nitrate pill and it had fallen through one of the holes in the ground.  He stared down at the small little silver-looking puddle on the ground and realized that even if he still had it in his hand; he did not want to go through that agony again.

Grimacing, he tried to redress his wound and only managed it half successfully before he gave up, the little rivets of shooting pain too much for him to cope again and leaned back against the wall of his cell, breathing deeply.

“That is sick,” a voice spoke up underneath him and he looked down to see a child, no more than seven, staring up at him, a disgusted look on her face.

“Yes, it is,” he decided to answer the girl frankly.  He wanted to say that it was what happened to those who spoke the truth, but knew that the child wouldn't believe a word he said; after all, he was a stranger.  “It's infected.  Do you know what that means?” he asked, gently.

She wordlessly shook her head, “Mommy says it turns green...like her leg.  They had to cut it off...”

Markus nodded, inwardly suppressing any thought that he was going to lose his own arm if he did not get medical help and antibiotics soon.  “That's called gangrene.”

“Gang Green?” the girl looked down for a second, concentrating on forming the unfamiliar word in her mouth.

“Gangrene,” his lip involuntarily twitched into a smile.  When the Big Death had hit and killed all of the adults in the Mountain, he and a few of the older children had taken it upon themselves to teach the younger children their basics and classes.  Even now, he had realized he had fallen into the old routine from long ago.

“Did you ever get a big scrape?” he asked gently.

“Yes,” she nodded her head vigorously, “Mommy found some of those band-aids and put it on.  It got better, but it hurt for a while.”

“Well, when it hurt, that's called infection.  Little bacteria, bad things, made it hurt.  If Mommy hadn't found that band-aid for you, it would have hurt a lot more.”

“I don't want that,” the girl wrinkled her nose and he smiled.

“I know, that's why Mommy was lucky to find that band-aid.”

“But you have a band-aid too!” she pointed at his half-dressed wound and he had to suppress a chuckle at her enthusiasm.  Almost all children were alike, curious, full of vitality, and always wanting to learn and occasionally point out the obvious much to any adult's exasperation.

“I do,” he nodded before pointing to some of the armed guards, “but some of those bad men decided it would be fun to pour water on it until it hurt a lot.”

“That's mean,” the child looked at him with sympathy before making a quick face at the guards then turned back to look at him.  “I like water, but Mommy said it couldn't hurt.”

“It doesn't hurt, most of the time.  But these men can make it hurt,” he shrugged carefully, “that silvery thing you saw?  That makes it feel better.”

“But you looked like you were hurt by it,” the little girl looked at him skeptically.

“I was,” he admitted, “remember how your Mommy first put the band-aid on you?  It hurts at first, but then it doesn't hurt after a while.  That's what that silvery thing feels like.”  It was a complete lie as he could still feel the fiery pain as the silver nitrate tried to do its work on his wound, but he wasn't going to tell the child that and ruin the moment.

“Oh,” the child nodded in comprehension before glancing over her shoulder, “you're nice...not like some of the others...  I have to go...but...”  She looked worriedly over her shoulder and Markus could see some of the guards approaching, their hands tapping the batons in their hands and knew that they were getting curious as to why this child wasn't throwing bottles or making fun of him.

“Go,” he urged quietly, “be careful, okay?”

She looked at him before a smile split her face and she nodded, “What's your name?”

“Markus,” he replied.

“Nice to meet you Markus.  Mommy says I shouldn't tell strangers my name, but I think you're nice.  I'm Olivia,” she gave him a grin before hurrying away, slipping past the guards.

Markus watched as she disappeared into the crowd before giving an even look at the guards who looked disappointed at not being able to punish him further or even punish little girl.  Somehow, he felt happy that he was able to talk to the child...even though the constant pain in his shoulder made him feel dizzied and weak.  He turned his gaze elsewhere and a frown creased his features as he thought he saw Mister Smith disappearing into the crowd.  Squinting and looking again, he shook his head...he had to be hallucinating...

                                    *                      *                      *

Mister Smith closed the cap on his pinhole camera and slipped it back inside his bag.  He knew it was a very beautiful picture he had taken, but what it would show, he didn't know.  Markus talking to the little curious girl, his face pale and sweaty, pain evident in his eyes and face.  His gunshot wound obviously half re-dressed...  But he looked like every inch the leader of the Western Alliance and the man that had dedicated himself to the ideals of rebuilding the world.

Smith wished he could walk up rip the plexiglass cage-like cell they had thrown Markus into and free him right then and there.  But even if he did so, they would never make it two steps past the sidewalk.  God had whispered his caution in his mind, a loving tone that he had never heard him use except for once when he had been apologetic to him after he had saved him from drowning himself in the lake.

He had heard God's anger during their trip up to Baltimore, and it had rendered him silent for most of the trip.  He had been so angry...even though he knew why Markus had to be captured.  His anger was not at Markus to pass this trial of fire and of temptation, but anger at what had been done in the cities to the East.  He wanted to quail at such anger and run and hide until it had passed, but he also knew that he, Kurdy, and Jeremiah were sent to rescue Markus.  Smith sighed quietly and turned around and walked into the crowd before Markus could catch sight of him.  Sometimes it was a bitch being God's sock puppet...

He had spent the night wandering around the aquarium and as soon as the first rays of dawn had hit, he had set out to explore the city.  One of Alec's minders had tailed him, but he had soon lost him amongst the crowd.  He knew it would make Alec angry in the long run, but Smith had been too canny to pick up someone following him; the exception being Kurdy.  He could never get a read on Kurdy...it was as if the man did not exist in his senses nor would God say anything about  him except to give him the occasional message and the one-time assurance that  he would find a valuable ally in Kurdy.

And he knew he had a valuable friend in Kurdy.  Jeremiah however...that was another story and one God did not have any advice for him.  He wondered if God was regretting telling him that Libby was the betrayer...that it would ultimately ruin his tentative friendship with the practical man.  But then again, he knew that God never regretted anything, he just did things.

He walked against the crowd, nodding to a couple of the guards that looked his way.  He had almost gotten caught after he had lost his tail, and it was only from the knowledge he had gleaned from the guards talking with him and little hints of advice from God that he had befriended the guards and they had not hauled him off to the slave camps.

He made sure his meandering path wasn't directly towards the aquarium and only headed towards it when he was sure no one was following him.  Arriving at the front door, he waved his hand a bit hesitantly at the guards who automatically brought up their guns, all pointed at him.  “It's me...Mister Smith?  I came with Jeremiah and Kurdy yesterday?”

The guards stared at him for a few seconds before one spoke into a hand-held radio and got a reply back a few seconds later.  They stared at him some more before waving him through.  Smith breathed a quick sigh of relief before heading into the aquarium.  He suspected that Kurdy and Jeremiah were probably awake by now; it was about mid-morning he supposed, though with the winter air and chill, it was hard to tell whether it was mid-morning or mid-afternoon with the angle of the sun.

“Hey man, where were you?” Kurdy spoke up as he walked into the general mess hall and spotted his friends.

“Out,” he patted to his bag where Kurdy knew he kept his pin hole camera.

“Alec says you ditched your guide,” Jeremiah looked at him curiously and Smith shrugged.

“I was...around,” he sat down and looked at Kurdy's pieces of toast, “hey, can I have a slice?”

He saw his partner roll his eyes in exasperation before handing him the whole plate plus a half-eaten bowl of mixed fruit.  Smith had not seen any sort of breakfast when he walked into the mess hall and suspected that Alec would not be keen on serving him any fruit if he had his way.  It was mostly the feeling he had gotten from everyone who thought of him as a bit...odd and therefore a security risk.

“Thanks,” he started munching on the offered food before with another sigh, a sausage link plopped into his fruit bowl and he gave a grin to Jeremiah who waved his thanks away, looking somewhat embarrassed.

“So, any good pictures?” he knew what Kurdy was alluding to when he had tapped his camera and nodded.

“Good ones,” he swallowed hastily, coughed once before clearing his throat again.  “It's very similar to New York, though there are fewer crowds than New York.  The guards are definitely a little more relaxed, but they don't really care for Daniel's rhetoric.  I think they're loyal to Jacob...”

“That can be a problem,” Jeremiah muttered, leaning back in his seat, his face pensive.

Smith finished his bread and fruit and wolfed down his sausage before gulping down a glass of water that Kurdy had offered to him.  Wiping his lips, he looked quickly around before leaning closer to them.  “I found him...”

“Where?” Jeremiah suddenly leaned forward again, his eyes intense, his face a mask of neutrality.

“He's in a plexiglass box of sorts in front of the Hotel.  I think that's what Alec meant by the Box.  There are air holes for the prisoners to breathe in, but they're all varying sizes-”

“How is he?” Kurdy cut him off and he shook his head.

“Pretty bad,” he didn't know how much he should tell them, “I think he can walk...and run if he needs to.  Give him a gun and he'll probably shoot, but his left arm is really fucked up.  I think he's also got a fever...”

“Infection,” Jeremiah rubbed a hand over his stubble and looked away, “we need to get him out...now...”

“That's why I say use my plan instead of going off on your own,” Alec's voice startled all of them and they all looked up to see him sauntering over, a neutral expression on his face.  He sat down in the seat next to Smith and gave him an arching look.  “You lost Rafael in the crowds...he came back and told me.  I was tempted to have my men shoot you when you decided to show up, but your friends here, persuaded me otherwise.  Don't even think about doing shit like that again on my turf unless you want to be shot.”

“I...don't...” Smith trailed off as he saw the warning look Kurdy gave him and he nodded.

Alec looked at him closely before turning to Jeremiah, “I know who you guys are talking about.  You don't get to be leader of the Resistance by not knowing what goes on in your backyard.  Plus our operative confirmed that he has been put in the Box and who he is.”

“Really?” Jeremiah looked at him closely, “Because-”

“It's Markus Alexander,” Alec cut him off and Smith looked carefully at both Jeremiah and Kurdy.  He wisely stayed silent, knowing that the two of them knew Markus far longer than he did.  And he also could not form an opinion on Markus.  Sure there was that time he completely used his oddball status to mess with the leader of ThunderMountain to hilarious results, but he really did not have an opinion on Markus.  He thought he had done a great job forming the Western Alliance and running ThunderMountain, but he wasn't in the position to comment.

Jeremiah's eyes had narrowed ever so slightly while Kurdy looked a bit surly.  The two radiated protectiveness towards Markus, or was it towards the Alliance, he couldn't exactly tell.  But he also knew how fragile the Alliance was at this time...and if someone like Alec knew that Markus had been captured, it may spell the end of the Alliance because of the information in his hand.

“Don't know who-”

“You can cut the bullshit, Jeremiah.  I may not want to join the Alliance, but I think it's a much better advantage than what Daniel and Jacob have here,” Alec shook his head, “and I think I should explain to you the merits of my plan because frankly, you rush in there right now, you guys won't even make two steps out of the area without being bullet ridden.”

“Colorful,” Kurdy replied deadpan.

Alec shot Kurdy a glowering look before looking at Jeremiah and to Smith's surprise, him too.  “Markus isn't the only political prisoner we would like to rescue that's been in the Box.  We've been waiting for this opportunity to come along for a couple of weeks now.”

“A couple of weeks?!  Won't whoever you want to rescue be dead by now?” Jeremiah looked shocked.

“No.  They feed the prisoners, scraps and dirty water, but it’s enough to keep them alive for a while.  Most last a month or so...” Alec looked away for a few seconds before his gaze hardened as he turned back to them, “like I said, Markus being here gives us a bigger opportunity.  He's the one that you're after, but he's also the one that everyone's watching.”

“So you'll use him as bait then?” Kurdy snorted, “We like him alive, not dead.”

“That's my offer,” Alec shrugged, “we'll try to keep him alive as much as possible, but I guarantee, he's got a better chance if you work with us, than if you work alone.”

“All right, all right, we get the picture,” Jeremiah held up his hands to quell the coming argument and Smith couldn't agree more with him.  He wanted to say that they didn't have a choice, but he also knew that his input would not be welcomed by anyone, except maybe Kurdy.  “So, say we work with you?  Your guys make a distraction; get your men out and Markus out during the time when the laborers are coming off of their shifts.  What then?”

“The men we're rescuing were stupid enough to get caught,” Alec shrugged, “they'll be happy to take a bullet for the cause-”

“Hey wait-”

“Whoa-”

Smith glanced at Kurdy as the two of them had voiced their protest at the same time and then looked at Alec, “I've seen the people in the Box.  Some of them can barely walk, let alone charge against the solders!”

“That's why they'll be happy to do so,” Alec narrowed his eyes, “those people out there?  They've already been starved, beaten, shot, had things done to them that would make your hair curl.  The Box is their last destination for humiliation.  They've got nothing to lose and I know that some of them welcome instant death if it means one more shot at getting to Jacob and the bastards that follow Daniel's philosophy.  Those guys would be willing to show the laborers that, yes, they can defy and yes, they still defy to the bitter end.”

“You're going to make martyrs out of them?!” Jeremiah looked a bit shocked, but his expression quickly closed down and Smith wondered if the man was remembering something that he had encountered in his travels.

“You've got a better idea?  Plus we don't,” the shaved-head leader of the Resistance rubbed his face for a second before hissing at them, “We don't have enough resources to treat them.  Not like your little precious Valhalla Sector or ThunderMountain.  I'm sure people like you remember what's it like out here in the Outside?”

“Yeah,” Jeremiah murmured quietly, “but we're trying to change that...”

“Hey Alec,” Smith thought of something, “Those plexiglass Boxes...how do we break through them?”

“We don't.  We grab them as they're hauling the prisoners out each evening.  I've already sent some of my men out last night to replace some of the guards in the Boxes.  Those men and women are the sons, daughters, husbands, and wives of our operatives that were caught.  They're willing to do anything to free their family including watching them die,” Alec looked at them before giving them a crooked, but sad smile, “I bet none of you had brothers or sisters, did you?”

“I had a brother,” Jeremiah looked away and Smith saw the look of sympathy Kurdy gave him before he too looked down at the table, picking absently on a corner of a napkin, “I had...someone...”

“Oh,” Alec nodded in understanding, “then I think we understand each other...”

“Yeah,” Jeremiah looked up at him and a faint smile was on his lips, “we do.”

Smith didn't know what was exchanged in the look between Jeremiah and Alec, but somehow, he felt God's murmur of approval in his mind and it chilled him a bit.  Something significant had happened here, right here and now.  Something that would affect the future in a big way...  And all Smith could do was watch and record it in his mind to tell the Historians later on...  He suddenly lifted the cap of the pinhole camera that he didn't know he had been holding and took a picture of the moment.  A moment of perfect clarity between the leader of the Baltimore Resistance and the simple man...

_Fractal Theory..._

                                    *                      *                      *

Sometime during the day, he had fallen asleep and had woken up to murmurs and the waning daylight, near his cell.  Dusk was falling and he realized that he had woken up and was bundled in a blanket that someone had placed in his cell and had wrapped him in it.  He blinked open his eyes in shock before glancing down and nearly recoiled.  At least two dozen faces were staring up at him, all with gazes of a varying sort.  Some had open sympathy while others were neutral, but he noticed more and more people approaching his Box...

“Uh...hi,” Markus breathed in the cold air, glad that someone had decided to keep him warm in the chilly winter air or else he probably would have already froze to death from hypothermia or worst.

“You're him, aren't you?  The one's everyone's talking about...” a young man, no more than in his early twenties spoke up.  His face was dirt smudged and his clothes ragged, clearly a slave in Daniel's projects.

“I...uh...”

“You're Markus Alexander from the Mountain,” the man breathed out and Markus raised an eyebrow, “little Olivia told us...she said that you spoke kindly to her that you were Markus.  We asked Alec, but he didn't say anything, but we know...”

Markus was completely confused as the others around the man nodded and murmured their assent.  The man looked like he had seen the face of God and he had a nasty feeling that the slaves thought of him as a messiah of sorts.  That was the last thing he needed...yet he did not want to dash the hopes of the slaves that had seen so little hope and were stuck in working for Daniel without any hope of escape.

“I'm not-”

“One of the guards, sympathetic to your cause, gave you that blanket,” the man indicated the blanket  wrapped around him and he looked towards the guards milling about, trying to see which one had gave him the blanket, but none of them looked at him.  “You have friends here, Markus.  You have followers...”

“I...don't want followers,” he disliked the idea of being a messiah and savior to these people, especially when he was still stuck himself.  “I don't want to be paraded around like your savior...”

“Then do you wish for hope to be extinguished?” the man looked at him curiously, a bit confused, “if you would not be the savior of man, then how come you are here?”

“I-”

“Good evening all,” Jacob's voice booming over a megaphone cut off whatever Markus was about to say and he looked to his left to see Jacob walk out of the lobby of the hotel, armed guards following him, Vincent trailing behind him, content to let his brother be in the spotlight.

It was also then that Markus noticed the fairly large crowd that had gathered around the plaza in front of the hotel.  They were only held back by the guards that had come forward and were training their guns on them.  Most of them were the laborers coming in after a long days' work, but he also noticed more than a few were obviously those who had done well to follow Daniel and probably ran the day to day administration of the city and perhaps other shops.

“Daniel greets us all today after our day's work,” Jacob held his hands up, silencing the crowd down to murmurs, “and he forgives.  Before tonight's address, we shall ask those who are displayed before you if they want to be forgiven.”

It was very ritualistic, Markus observed, as some of the guards suddenly broke rank and went all along the Boxes and opened their locks.  He saw at least five guards approach his cage before one of them climbed up his stand and opened the side of his cage and grabbed him roughly by his uninjured shoulder.

“All right, all right,” he shed his blanket as he stepped out of his cage and nearly collapsed to the ground, his legs weakened by lack of movement for the whole day before he managed to right himself and walk down the steps.  He heard the gasps of those closest to his prison that saw his half-dressed wound, but ignored their looks of sympathy and disgust.

He was marched into a line in front of the main crowd, some of whom booed and taunted them; others just stared at them, waiting to see what they would do.  His eyes scanned the crowd, wondering if it was his imagination that he saw Smith disappear somewhere.  None of the faces were familiar...there was no one here to rescue him.  He had to do it himself...had to either free himself through sheer negotiation or-

Wait a minute...

Markus stared closely at a particular bald man who looked tough enough to rip limbs off of someone.  He was staring at him, no...staring through him, as if he could see deep into his soul.  He made an inquiring face before the man suddenly lifted a finger and pointed to his right just as a head appeared...

It was Jeremiah's familiar face...

Shock flooded through Markus' system as he realized that if Jeremiah was here, then so was Kurdy and probably Mister Smith.  So that was Smith that he had seen earlier in the morning...and they meant to rescue him in this crowd?!

Markus wanted to shake his head no, to tell them to abort such a suicidal plan as he realized what they had intended to do.  He would not let so many people die from a bloodbath just to get him out.  But he never got the chance to do so as Jacob suddenly slid into his vision and smiled down at him.  He immediately focused his attention on the handsome man, feeling a well of anger build up in him.

“Ah, our latest celebrity,” Jacob whispered to him before turning and lifting up the megaphone, “as you all may have discovered, we have a newcomer to the Box!  He is not of the pitiful Resistance as you may have imagined, but Daniel was kind enough to give him to me to show to you!”

He suddenly jammed a thumb into his wound as he gripped his shoulder tightly and Markus immediately stifled a gasp of pain.  He felt sweat suddenly pop out on his forehead as Jacob worked his thumb deeper, but he was determined not to show any sign of weakness in front of the man nor in front of the crowd that had gathered.  After what seemed like eternity, Jacob released his shoulder and Markus let out a small gasp of pain through his teeth.

“His name,” Jacob turned slightly to address the crowd, “is Markus Alexander.  Yes...he uses the last name of the Old World.  He is the leader of the so-called New American Alliance.  The Alliance that threatens our way of life, Daniel's way of life.  The Alliance that would use force to crush Daniel's ideals, my ideals, our ideals of hope, prosperity, and happiness.”

“Daniel was kind enough to point out where he would be and we were able to take him into custody,” Jacob continued, “however, Mr. Alexander here, would not be so cooperative.  Did you know, he tried to kill John, our beloved General Sims' second-in-command?  Did you know he shot three of his own men when they turned on him?  Did you know that he ordered his lieutenant, Jeremiah to kill Sims himself?  That he has so much blood on him?”

“That's not true!” Markus shouted, but his voice could not reach what Jacob's megaphone did.  However, those in the front who heard his words looked at him in surprise.  He had a feeling that the prisoners in the Boxes usually did not speak out...

“It's not true?” Jacob glanced back at him mockingly before walking around to his back and placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder before talking over his megaphone, “I offered him the chance for forgiveness and mercy and he rejected it.  He does not want peace, but war.  He would rather work against what Daniel stands for and let blood be shed over it than to work with us.”

Markus could feel the anger boiling over in him.  That manipulative bastard...he had used his rejection of his offer against him and to manipulate the crowd to be sympathetic to Daniel's cause.  He saw some of the laborers who had gathered around his cage moments ago with something akin to horror in their eyes as they couldn't believe that he had rejected a chance for their freedom.

“Do you think I like shedding blood?” he asked, turning his head slightly to glare at Jacob, “Do you really think that the people here would want that?”

“What they think they want, versus what they want is irrelevant, Markus,” Jacob muttered none too loudly before he lifted the megaphone up to his lips again, “This is what happens when the enemies of Daniel decide they can rule over him.  This is-”

Markus knew he his anger had snapped somewhere along the man's rantings.  He had found that the guard holding his good arm's grip was loose and used it to his advantage, driving his elbow backwards in a jab that hit Jacob square in the stomach.  His blow forced the air out of Jacob's lungs before he collapsed half on top of him, clocking him with the megaphone barely gripped on his hand before the guards suddenly dove on top of him, pinning him down roughly.

His injury screamed in pain, but Markus didn't care as he knew he had scored a victory.  However, the weight on top of him was suddenly lifted as someone toppled over into his guard and the warm viscous liquid dripped down his face.  That was when the roar of chaos came back to his ears and he looked up to see the crowd surge forward, some holding machine guns, others just charging the guards.

His vision and ears were suddenly assaulted with the cries of an angry mob as he was suddenly jerked to his knees and he looked around, the crowd surging around them, but they weren’t' attacking him.  Instead, they had roared their fury and were attacking all around him.

He felt hands grab him from behind and Markus tried to fight it until Jeremiah's raspy voice spoke in his ear, “Come on, we've got you!”

“Jeremiah?” Markus turned his head to meet Jeremiah's brown eyes before the man gave him a quirky smile.

Then Kurdy and Smith were next to him, supporting him as they ran blindly through the crowds.  Markus tried to speak, to tell them to wait as he caught a glimpse of the burly man rush past him, gun blazing.  He was screaming something, but he couldn't understand what the man was saying...the blurry colors of people around him, noises he couldn't identify...

“Oh shit, I think he's going into shock,” Jeremiah's voice was distant now and Markus shook his head, trying to force himself to pay attention.  He knew he was walking; his feet were taking him somewhere, but somehow...

“Come on Markus, don't do this,” he tried to turn his head, but it was lethargic...tried to look behind him...

Was that Jacob who was retreating back into the hotel?  Firing into the crowd as the screams got louder...

He tightened his grip on Jeremiah's coat as he tried to pull himself upwards...and finally realized that he couldn't feel anymore pain in his arm.  Turning his head, or at least attempting it, it was so hard for some odd reason.  It was so easier earlier before, wasn't it?  He was just standing, being held by the guards at the front of the hotel...wasn't he?

“W...Where...” why did his tongue feel so stiff and heavy when he tried to talk?  He had a perfect conversation with that little girl Olivia...had a conversation with Jacob.  Didn't he?

Markus knew he should have been concerned, but he didn't know what...it was so easy...so...tiring...

                                    *                      *                      *

“Fuck,” Jeremiah swore emphatically when he nearly staggered under Markus' weight as the man finally passed out.  Kurdy was in front of him, as they ran towards their car, Smith watching their back.  Both of them had offered to help carry Markus, but he did not want anyone touching the man's other arm.

It had been some rescue, no thanks to Markus' anger that had made him snap and punch Jacob straight in the gut.  He had seen Alec's eyes light up in mirth before he gave the order to charge the guards and rescue his own people.  The battle still raged behind them, but then again Alec knew what they had done and knew that they would leave them behind in order to get Markus quickly out of the city.

“No one's following,” Smith called out behind them as they reached the car, still parked in the pier and Kurdy quickly opened the backseat door and helped him drag Markus' unconscious form across the seat before popping the trunk and grabbing a large first-aid field kit.

“Keep an eye out,” Jeremiah said as he dug into the kit and immediately stabbed a vial of sodium chloride into Markus' leg before grabbing the pouches of fluid lines and started to set them up.  He wasn't too sure what else to do since he had little training as a field medic, but he knew that Markus was probably lacking in nutrients, water, and medical care and knew that the first thing the body needed when it was starving of some was electrolytes.

“All right, Smith!  Get your ass in here!” Kurdy gave him one more glance before gesturing for Smith to take the front seat.

Jeremiah squished himself into the back seat, propping Markus' legs up on his own as he leaned over and started to apply gauze to the ugly and infected-looking bullet wound.  It looked like it had been half-dressed, unsuccessfully for the most part and there was some silver particulate matter that he didn't recognize on it, but he hoped for Markus' sake that the bullet was already out of the wound.  If not...he had more problems then shock to worry about...

He barely heard or felt the acceleration of the car as they drove away and sped back towards Valhalla.  All he could do was shake his head at Markus' pale and unmoving form.

The bastards really did a number on him, he thought as he dug into the bag and pulled out a small pen of adrenaline.  He knew that giving adrenaline was really bad in Markus' condition, but he knew it would also help his heart by making the blood flow faster.  However, it was hard in the bumpy ride and Jeremiah had been considering giving Markus half a dose, but with this bumpy ride...

He sighed and placed the pen above Markus' thigh and depressed the trigger.  The adrenaline immediately did it work and just as suddenly Markus sat up, nearly kicking Jeremiah in the face as his legs reacted to the sudden surge of epinephrine.  “Wha...” Markus blinked owlishly before looking around.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Jeremiah gave him a rueful grin as the man looked around still confused before his eyes settled on him then turned to Smith and Kurdy...

“J-Jeremiah?” Markus looked at him for a second before his eyes screwed up in pain as he clutched his injured arm with his good hand, “shit...”

“Yeah, well you look like that yourself,” Jeremiah tilted his head as Markus squinted his eyes open once more, “you were a bit shocky there...”

“Still...feel...” Markus waved his hand around before leaning back against the window, “...this a dream?”

“Dream?” Kurdy spoke up from the front, “hell no...nightmare, probably yeah...”

“It's a rescue,” Smith gave a look to Kurdy before smiling at Markus, “don't worry, you're out of that hell hole...”

Markus nodded, but Jeremiah could tell that his mind was elsewhere.  He looked at him for a long second before tentatively asking, “...sleep?”

Jeremiah smiled and nodded.  He couldn't even begin to imagine what the leader of ThunderMountain had gone through.  He sounded so much like a scare little kid, but then again, he knew that if he himself had been in Markus' situation, he would probably have sounded the same.  “Yeah...get some sleep Markus.  You're going home...”

With that, he saw Markus look from him to Smith and Kurdy and back before finally allowing his eyes to close and a few minutes later, his face melted into something more peaceful than the stark naked fear he had been wearing.

                                    *                      *                      *

They pulled up to Valhalla two hours later and after the medics had wheeled Markus in for emergency surgery, Jeremiah was left standing in the garage, feeling a bit empty.  He could still feel the adrenaline surging in him, and knew that they had barely dodged the bullet with this one.  There were so many things that could have gone wrong with the plan.  He could only hope that Alec survived his plan, but somehow knew the man would do so...

That was where his father found him ten minutes later, still in the garage, staring at the closed metal doors that were able to withstand everything save for a nuclear missile.  “Jeremiah?”

He turned and gave a sheepish grin to his father as he realized that he was still half covered in some of the blood that had been shed on him as they ran through the impromptu battlefield between the Resistance and Jacob's forces.  He crossed his arms across his chest, “Sorry, I would hug, but...”

“I know,” Devon grinned solemnly at him, “I just wanted to make sure that you were okay...”

“I am,” Jeremiah sighed, uncrossing his arms before pulling at his left arm to stretch it slightly, “just...you know, it was close...really close...”

“Markus is doing fine.  The medics were able to stabilize him, but we don't exactly have a trained surgeon to look at his wound...so...the best we can do is stabilize him for his trip back to ThunderMountain.”

“That's good to hear,” he wouldn't admit, but he had been extremely worried about Markus.  The two of them had their ups and downs and had their fights, but he respected him and was glad that Markus would be all right.  “You know they're going to come after you now...  There's nothing to stop them,” that was the sobering realization, and one that made him hesitate to return to the Mountain.  He didn't want to leave his father behind to potential invading forces, even though Valhalla could be sealed off for a long time.

“Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about,” Devon looked at him and Jeremiah frowned.

“What,” he spread his hands out, “some ace up your sleeve you want to tell me?  Oh wait, don't tell me, you have the nuclear codes to bomb the living shit out of Baltimore.”

“Um...we do, but that's not it,” Devon shook his head and Jeremiah was about to smile when he realized his father was serious about his joke.

“You're kidding...”

“The President was here.  He has the nuclear access codes,” his father reminded him before gesturing for him to come walk with him, “but that's not it.  While you, Kurdy, and Smith were gone, we had an interesting offer come up...”

“Define interesting,” Jeremiah humored his father.

“Remember how we were talking about Valerie of Atlanta ruled the Southern Cities?” his father asked and Jeremiah nodded.

“Yeah...”

“Apparently she personally came up here and offered an alliance with us against Daniel,” his father said and Jeremiah stopped where he was, shocked.

“Holy....She actually came up here...”

“And offered an alliance against Daniel.  Looks like she heard management changed in Valhalla...  I almost didn't believe it until she said she was unarmed and she knew more about ThunderMountain, the Western Alliance, and Valhalla than we thought she knew...”

“How much more?” Jeremiah was leery.  Markus was going to have a shit fit if he knew that the leader of the Southern Cities knew a lot about the Mountain.

“Not enough to compromise the Mountain I guarantee it, or at least not enough that she told me, but she knows about you, about Kurdy, about Markus and what you three are trying to build.  She knows about Millhaven, about how Kurdy and Smith go to towns around the area and try to recruit others into the Western Alliance...”

“Shit,” Jeremiah dragged out the swear and shook his head, “how do you know it's not a trap?”

“I think if she's decapitating anyone who mentions Daniel is probably not lying about it,” Devon shrugged, “I told her that we're independent from Thunder Mountain, but we are part of the Western Alliance.  She accepted that and said that she would like to make a personal treaty with us...  Apparently she controls some of the military bases down south and would like to get it networked and linked again with Valhalla.”

“So what's this got to do with Jacob?”

“Apparently she's also been doing what you guys have been doing.  Building up a volunteer army to fight against Daniel.  She said she was currently on her way to Nashville to oversee the latest battle against Daniel's forces and made a detour here when she heard that a prominent leader of the Western Alliance had been captured and taken to one of Daniel's main cities.”

“News travels fast,” Jeremiah shifted his feet before grinning, “too bad the news will travel fast that we got Markus out of there and kicked Jacob's ass at the same time.”

His father snorted softly, “That's true too.  Valerie's offered some of her army to be posted here to protect Valhalla and its neighboring towns.  I told her I consider it, and since we are technically independent from ThunderMountain...”

“I know,” Jeremiah nodded, “you're in charge of the base so it's your rules, your way.  Much like Mom's rules that she used to hang up on the kitchen wall.”

“Yeah,” his father looked a bit saddened for a second before smiling at him, but Jeremiah had caught the expression.  Even though they had never talked about it, he knew guilt still ate away at his father even though he had tried to move on from his mother's death.  It was the same way with Jeremiah...guilt at not being able to figure Libby out...not being able to save her...  His only consolation was that he got to kill Sims.

“That isn't all I wanted to tell you,” his father continued, “I'm going to let Markus know before you guys leave, but Valerie wants to extend an offer for an alliance to the Western Alliance and to Thunder Mountain personally.”

“Huh,” Jeremiah had no answer for that.  It was for Markus and the other leaders of the Western Alliance to decide.  “Thanks Dad...”

His father smiled and clapped him on the back, “You don't have to thank me, Jeremiah.  You're always welcomed anytime to Valhalla, though I hear you're now the mayor of a town yourself so I guess your visits and our talks would be infrequent...”

“Don't say that Dad,” Jeremiah suddenly felt a pang of loneliness as he realized that his job as the mayor of Millhaven had kept him away from his father for a long time.  “I'll come visit again...”

“I know you will,” they continued walking towards the medical ward, “in the mean time, it's as good of a time as any to catch up...”

“So...how about them Dodgers?” Jeremiah suddenly cracked and was rewarded with his father laughing boisterously.

“What about the Yankees?”

Their banter with each other faded into the echoes of the hallway as Mister Smith stepped out from the shadows and lifted the cover off of his pinhole camera and captured the moment.  A flash of two men, one of the Old World, one of the New laughing as father and son...

                                    *                      *                      *

She slowly approached the window of the medical room that she knew he had been placed in and looked in on his sleeping figure.  He looked peaceful, his arm wrapped in new gauze, but his face was gaunt and sunken...a testament to how much abuse he had to overcome in the past three and half days of captivity.

“So...Markus Alexander...we finally meet,” her voice was melodic and deep as she brushed back a strand of raven-colored hair.

“Thank you...for taking care of my sister, Meaghan...”

 

~END~

 


End file.
